


Another Time

by sceawere



Category: Peaky Blinders (TV)
Genre: Crimes & Criminals, Domestic Fluff, F/M, Families of Choice, Family Feels, Idiots in Love, Organized Crime, Time Travel, Writers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-13
Updated: 2019-06-05
Packaged: 2019-06-09 20:31:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 15
Words: 40,263
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15275616
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sceawere/pseuds/sceawere
Summary: All you wanted was to write a semi-successful book and maybe get a cat or something. Falling through time and shacking up with a gangster was not on your five-year plan.-Reader is researching a book, following women through the history of the city, when she becomes part of it herself. Falling through time, right into the lap of Alfie Solomons, presents a unique challenge. What exactly does going home mean to her now? And why the hell has a cranky detective taken such an interest in her arrival?





	1. Badly Filed Records

You looked up from the array of paper to where the caretaker was checking the windows and closing the cabinets up.

“Sorry, do you need to lock up?” you asked, soft panic rising in your voice.

“No, no, don’t you worry. I’ll be here about another hour, you’ve got time. Just like to get a head start on things” he explained, continuing about his work.

“Sorry, I know it’s late. I’m finishing off, I promise. I just need to find this one address or I’ll never be able to sleep tonight”

You gave a breathy laugh at the end, pointing to the mess of your folder. He laughed back, dropping the bundle of keys back to the chain on his waist.

“You’ve been here half the day already. Who is it you’re looking for?” he stepped a little closer, eyeing the papers.

“Umm…a ghost apparently. I’m writing a book about the history of the city, using the stories of the women who lived here. So, I pick one from each century-ish time period and follow them through time, documenting all the changes they lived through, you know? The events they experienced, what they thought of them at the time, uncoloured by what we know now.

Anyway, a historian I met up with pointed me in the direction of someone they thought might be an interesting subject but I’m having trouble actually confirming they existed. I think maybe they mixed up their information somewhere or got confused, I don’t know. It’s all a bit of a mess” you frowned.

“When was this? Lived in this city my whole life, might be able to help out”

“She’d be about my age in the mid 20’s and that’s where they aimed me at” you tilted your head, squinting slightly.

He hummed, rocking on his heels.

“Sorry, bit before my time”

“I thought it might be” you smiled.

“That’s very kind of you to say, dear. Most assume I’m pre-historic”

You laughed at him, shuffling about some papers.

“Anyway, there’s some things that won’t be in there if that’s any help”

You let the comment pass at first, raising your head once it settled in.

“Oh?”

“Some of them are restricted, you see. Got times on them,” he let out a noise to show he was trying to think of the word and turned his hand in circles “can’t be released to the public before a certain time. War stuff and the like. Anything with a government project that was hushed at the time. Sometimes it’s just estates wanting things protected for a while, ‘til everyone involved is gone”

“Oh, like the census – 100 years from the time of completion so nobody can use your details”

“Exactly!” he agreed.

“So…you think maybe she might be hiding in there somewhere?”

“Maybe. I could have a look. Don’t think anyone would be too put out by me confirming or denying their existence as long as I don’t smuggle anything out or the like. Stop you chasing your tail, won’t it?” he suggested, and you dropped the papers you’d been shuffling.

“That would be a godsend, actually. You wouldn’t get in trouble?”

“Oh, I’ve done worse and they still let me in every morning. Think they’ve given up on me to be honest”

You pulled your eyebrows together, nodding back at him, not quite sure whether he was joking or not.

“Well, if you could then, yes please!”

“Write me down a name, anything you have. I’ll have a peek”

You flicked quickly through your notebook, swiping pages past until you found the write one.

“Uh, here”

You copied over the bones of the information, enough to sign post him and handed it over.

“Give me a minute, I’ll have to go down to the basement”

“Thank you for this!” you called after him.

“Oh, no trouble. Nice to be useful”

You smiled as he lumbered off, cleaning away the useless papers from the desk before you while you waited.

-

You were about ready to give up and leave him a note telling him to forget it. He’d been gone the better part of an hour already and it was getting on into the evening. You’d put all the books back, you’d tidied away papers. You’d even fixed some badly filed records. You sighed, dropping your head back over the back of the chair and slumping until it was comfortable enough to stay that way.

“Here you are, don’t know is this is any use”

You threw your head up. Your body followed as he got closer, protesting from the sudden movement after a long period of rest. He turned to your side, holding the sheet of paper you’d given him out where you could both see it. He’d scribbled notes on the reverse and he pointed parts out with his thumb as he spoke.

“See, you had the name wrong I think. And I think you had the right place all along but they’ve changed the name of street the building was on so it didn’t click, see”

“No, sorry, this name” you frowned, pointing down at the page.

“Yes, I think that’s who you’re looking for, right age, and the right place. Just a different name. Historian probably mixed two similar women up when they passed them on”

“That’s my name, though”

“What’s your name? Here?”

“No, the name you’ve got there…that’s my name. And my birthday…that’s…this is my info but that years are…”

You pointed to the scribble over the address and furrowed your brow, thoroughly confused. Had you given him your name? You didn’t remember doing it at any point. It wasn’t anywhere on the page you’d given him. You used a generic cheap notepad since you filled them so fast with information that usually ended up not being used anyway. How had he got your name – all of it? And why was your birthday there, just backdated?

“Well, that’s what was on the record. I just copied it down. She’s not an ancestor of yours or something? You named after them?”

“No, I’m not from the city, none of my family are. Halfway across the country actually…why would…”

“Maybe it was a common name”

“That combination exactly?”

“Well, I don’t know…maybe your parents had something they’d seen in their head and they liked it, subconscious you know. Weirder things have happened that way”

You felt dazed, your skin prickling as you stared at the information.

“I don’t…thank you for this. I need to…I need to go, though”

“Oh, well. You’re welcome”

You gathered up your bag, glad that you’d packed everything in advance and moved quickly out of the library. Your shoes clacked against the polished tile as you almost jogged through the lobby and out into the night.

You turned the paper over in your hands a dozen times, double checking the info. He’d written an address under the name, some other miscellaneous facts. But again, the bare bones, the details to be fleshed out later.

You sighed, eyes trailing over the street name. You recognised it, the updated one, you’d seen it on maps. There was a tube stop nearby, maybe…it was worth a look. At least to convince yourself you weren’t trapped in some low budget horror flick, about to be confronted by your evil twin from another dimension or something.

“Now shut up. You’re being ridiculous” you whispered under your breath.

You sighed, turned about yourself, and headed for the bus stop.

Some rabid phone searching on the journey home had informed you that the building was being refurbished and was closed for the moment. It had originally been a club, in the 20’s, but had been bought out and turned into a theatre and then offices and then something and then something. An investor on a culture binge had bought it out and refurbed it ‘back to how it was in its hey-day’.

You eyed the date for the grand re-opening. The end of the week. A big 20’s themed party, to celebrate.

You closed the window, tapping the search bar. You needed to find a vintage dress by the end of the week.


	2. 19:25

You walked into the club, struck by the atmosphere the second the door swung shut behind you.

It was bright, and loud, and warm, and close, and…incredible.

Everything was flush and plush and glittering, people in beaded dresses and suits swinging around. There was a real band, dolled up, playing 20’s versions of modern songs and you laughed to yourself, hovering in the archway that led from the entry to the club proper. People were scattered about the tables that encircled the dancefloor, milling about with fancy drinks in hand. It was incredible. Like nothing you’d ever seen, except for on a screen or a museum.

A few differences you did note, as ‘authentic’ as they had tried to make the experience. 'No smoking' signs, though printed in vintage font, were giant as you entered in the way. They may want people to immerse themselves but they needed to keep their license. A guy walking past you with a 80's cartoon tattoo peaking from his rolled up sleeve wasn’t exactly realistic for the time period. Neither were the people snapping away the night on their phones. Still, exciting.

“Want me to take that?”

You swung your head around to the voice. A woman stood in a culvert. She was pointing to your coat.

“Oh, uh, yes please”

You slid it fully off from where it was resting, half off, on your elbows. You were balancing your beaded bag between your teeth while you handed it to her.

“Thanks”

“You’re welcome. Alone?” she questioned.

“Uhh…yeah”

“Hmm. Don’t worry. Plenty out there”

You laughed, turning your head to the scene and back.

“Here on business, technically, not pleasure” you replied.

“Oh, yeah?”

“Yeah, I’m writing a book about the history of the city and…the original club that was here? Part of the story”

“Oh, wow. Well…I know Jimmy has a room upstairs – kind of a mini museum, you know? Stuff they tracked down, stuff they found in the refurb. There was stuff under the floorboards and in the walls can you believe?”

“Really?”

“Yeah. Weird stuff”

She laughed, throwing off the comment, and turning back to the room.

“Oh, uh-“she turned back to you as you stepped closer “stuff like what?”

She tipped her head back a little, probably surprised at your interest.

“Old newspapers, coins, normal stuff you find in old places. People have always like time capsules, I guess”

“You said ‘weird’ stuff though?”

She leaned against the wall and rolled her eyes back and forth across the carpet.

“Some woman’s stuff. I think she was with the guy who owned the place”

“A woman?”

“Yeah, I…don’t remember her name”

You gave her yours and she looked up.

“Sounds about right. Yeah, I remember because Jimmy had me look her up, he was curious. We didn’t find much. She just…came into existence here and then disappeared again”

You put your weight back on your heels, your mind spinning as the band changed songs.

“Sounds about right”

“You know about this? Is this the part you’re writing about?”

“I think so” you reached down into your bag and pulled out your recorder, setting it going “would you mind repeating what we just talked about – just, hit the highlights for me”

She brightened a moment, looking at the recorder.

“Am I going to be in a book?”

You laughed, nodding.

“I’ll put you in the acknowledgements, you’ll have to write your info down. But first-“you motioned to the recorder.

“Oh, yeah” she leaned towards the recorder a little and repeated most of what she knew.

“Can you elaborate on the items that were found related to this woman specifically?”

“Oh” she looked up and away, calling back an image you didn’t have access to “there was…a necklace, like a locket. A newspaper from the date the club first opened and then I think the first year anniversary or something like that – it was front page I think. Some gangster guy owned the place and there was a big” she motioned with her hands “splash about it”

You nodded her to continue.

“Some documents…they were fake. We checked the info”

“Documents?”

“Birth certificate, her national reg card. Stuff like that, documents” she tilted her head and gave you a double look “actually, you might look like her a little. In the right light”

You bristled, swallowing, and shifting your weight.

“Oh but one of them was real! I remember now, a marriage license”

“A marriage license?”

“Yes. Her and the gangster guy. I think maybe there was something dodgy going on there because like I said, none of her info was real. Not her name, her birth, nothing. Maybe she was trying to make a new life? Oh…how romantic. You should write about that instead!”

You blew air from your nose, eyes fixed to the wall behind her as your mind turned over. Suddenly you felt sick. You faltered for a moment, hand stuttering in the air before you finally clicked stop.

“Can I see these things? Is the room available to the public?”

“Oh, yeah, of course. That’s the point. Get people interested. Jimmy’s all about that kind of thing. I can’t take you up – I have to stay here but, uh…hang on”

She shuffled past you into the entry way and waved at someone stood behind the bar. They held up a finger to gesture a minute and she turned back.

“I’ll ask Scott to show you up”

-

Scott showed you into the room, a big gold door up on the balcony.

“Thanks”

“Welcome. Do me a favour – check with me on the way out? Jimmy likes to keep an eye on this stuff. Not that we don’t trust you or anything-“

“I understand”

He nodded and stepped back out into the furore of the main room, the noise not at all muffled up here. You stepped back out, a short pace to the edge. You looked down into the main room, the crowd still animated. Even more as the bar filled up again. You trailed an eye over the crowd and stepped back into the room, pulling the door shut behind you.

It was like a plug, pressing stop on the recorder. Like you’d entered another world. The barest muffle made its way through the ornate woodwork and as you stepped in further, the noise trailed away to almost nothing but the bass you could feel under your strappy heels. Your dress swayed around you, the beads scratching lightly at your legs.

It had jumped out at you in the shop, an old vintage place tucked into the back corner of a converted warehouse. You’d jogged up to the top floor and through the partitions of disparate shops that were smushed together in the old bare-brick walls. A piercing place, a tiny coffee shop with cute leather booths, a costume place, some crystally type stuff, and a vintage shop all in one space.

You’d trailed through the racks, looking for something era-appropriate. It was surprisingly saturated with tea dresses and the like, nothing that screamed Golden Age to you. But then you’d turned to make your way back out and seen the dress hanging in a stockroom tucked behind the counter.

“Scuse me - that dress?”

“Oh yeah, we’ve just finished that one. Beautiful isn’t it?”

“Gorgeous. Finished it?” you caught her words.

“Beading was shot. Hand stitched the lot”

“You’re kidding”

“Nope. You want to see?”

“Yes, yes I do, please”

The stockroom turned out to also be the changing room, given the limited space, and you’d tried to get it on as gracefully as possibly without knocking over a shelf of other works-in-progress. It was perfect. Wearing it here, in the right atmosphere, it felt even better. It felt…right.

You bent over the cases and studied the objects under them. Little place-cards were there too, explaining where in the building they’d been found, little snippets of information.

Your brow furrowed as your eye scrolled over them. Edwardian coins and the like, too early for anything relevant to you. You trailed your hand over the case as you stepped your way around, the sight of a certain piece jolting to you to stillness.

“Holy fuck”

You bent fully over the case, hands splayed, nose nearly pressed like a child at a zoo.

“Oh my…!”

It was you. You were sure. You knew. A picture of you stood in front of the club. Wearing the dress you were wearing now. It was you. The front of the club looked a little different – the signage font was slightly off, the peril of trying to re-create from limited sources. But it was this club. And it was you. For sure. Stood with a guy in a suit, out front.

You hurried across the other objects, a locket, some papers, as she’d said. The name on them was yours. In your writing. You flung your head back around to the doorway, panting. Were you really going to do this?

“Oh, fuck it. I’m already halfway off the deep end anyway”

The cases weren’t museum grade by any means, just glass show cases. You ran your eyes over the edges, looking for sensors or anything there. There was nothing visible. You ran over it in your head – he’d probably asked you to check on the way out because they had no other way of knowing. Who would want to steal any of this stuff anyway? Other than the locket, it had no modern value.

You took a deep breath, flicking the latch at the back of the case cover and pulling it towards you. You rifled through your bag for a clean tissue you’d stuffed into a pocket there and pinched it between your fingers as a barrier to protect both the paper and yourself. Just in case, no fingerprints lying around. You reached in carefully, lifting the documents for closer inspection. When you started feeling dizzy from holding your breath you placed them back down and moved along, reaching for the locket.

You scanned your eyes over to the side, over the marriage license. A bolt of energy ran through you at the thought of the picture came back to you. How the fuck did this woman have your face and your name, appear out of nowhere, and end up with a gangster? You thought back to the historian who’d pointed you in this direction. They had to have known. Was this some sick joke? Some creepy prank? You snapped back into reality at the pain in your fingertips and you turned to see that you’d wound the chain around your finger subconsciously, pulled so tight your skin was turning white. You scowled and pulled to move it free when the catch gave way and it snapped open, scratching at your palm. You dropped it to the ground in shock, a drop of blood chasing after it.

“Oh, shit”

You threw yourself down with the tissue, wiping everything clean and cursing under your breath. You jumped back up, going to lay the locket back as you’d found it in the case when you realised it wasn’t there anymore. You staggered back a few paces, eyes darting around the room in panic. The display cases were gone and in their place was a cabinet with decanters and bottles and the like place on a shining tray. You spun, taking in every detail. Behind you were leather chairs, paintings on the wall that weren’t there before. Your chest jolted and you started breathing deeper to try to calm yourself. The locket was still tight in your palm and you made your way across the room, reaching for the door handle and throwing yourself out onto the balcony. You let the locket drop to dangle as your palms gripped onto the bannister.

Holy fuck. Someone must have slipped you something. You knew you hadn’t drank anything but…in the air or something. They must have. You were tripping. Or dying. Or something.

The room below was mainly as it was but everything was slightly off. The colour of the walls was shaded just a little brighter, the tables had shifted position, and the dresses were all a little _more something._ The band was different, the song had shifted when you weren’t paying attention. There was smoke trailing up in plumes from throughout the room. It smelt different. It **was** different.

“Holy…fuck”

“You alright, miss?”

You swung around, the locket swinging after you and slamming against your thigh. You looked down and opened your palm, the chain looped securely around it but the cut was gone. There was no blood. You scowled again, looking back up to the man stood in the sharp cut suit.

“I-oh, fuck”

He looked you over, stepping forward slightly.

“Who brought you up here?”

“Umm…”you ran a hand up and braced it against you forehead “Scott? Scott, I think his name was?”

He lifted his head a little, his tongue braced against the inside of his top teeth.

“Well Scott” he emphasised the word “doesn’t work here so…I’m going to have to ask you to go back downstairs. This is for the boss and employees only, you understand”

“Oh, sorry…sorry. He said – he said I could – is Jimmy…? I’m…confused sorry. Is Jimmy here?”

“Jimmy?”

“The woman in the coat room said Jimmy was the boss, I’d like to speak to him about something”

He snickered to himself, looking down and wiping his nose, before looking up with brows lifted in humour.

“Jimmy isn’t the boss here. So, I don’t know who told you that, but-“he reached out for you and you stepped back against the column.

“Let me see you downstairs, get you a drink. You look like you’ve had a fright”

“No, it’s ok. I’m just going to get my bag and I can see myself out”

“It’s no problem. It’s my job to see beautiful women have a good time while they’re here, you see. We want the pretty ones to come back. Can’t have you telling your friends I was inhospitable”

Your stomach was turning over itself and you kept your eyes trained on his as you side stepped towards the room.

“I dropped it in here, I’ll just be a second”

You sped up once you were in the room, looking around again, hoping something would click. Maybe you’d passed out and this was all a weird dream. Maybe this entire thing was a dream. Maybe you were still at home and you’d wake up at any moment and-

“Take your time”

You turned back to the guy stood in the doorway and you reached down for your bag, gripping it tightly between your fingers. You stood a little too quickly and your vision blurred for just a second. He stepped towards you as you swayed, lifting a hand to your face.

“You alright?”

His cheeky tone was gone, in place of genuine concern.

“I’m…I don’t understand. Oh God, I don’t feel-”

You could hear your voice was almost slurring. Shit. I’m going to pass out again. For real.

“Woah, okay. This Scott you came up with – he do something to you? Hey, oh, sweetheart, hey” he slapped at your cheeks lightly, drawing your chin up to him. He looked over your face for a moment, before shouting to the doorway. Another guy came through, looking like a twin of the first.

“Aaron, come look at her, she don’t look right”

You felt like you were stood two foot behind yourself, you wanted to protest to the two of them but you couldn’t speak, you could barely breathe.

“She said some guy brought her up here but she was alone - freaking out when I came up. You think-?”

The second guy took another look at you before nudging what you assumed was his brother.

“Go get the boss. And tell ‘em to shut the doors! No-one in or out!”

He turned back to you, moving you back to lower against the chair.

“Hey, you with me?”

“I-I don’t-“

You were gasping and he shushed you, bringing you to lay against the rolling armrest. The cold leather pressed against your face and your eyes rolled.

“Hey, it’s alright. We’ll get him, yeah? Tell me what he looks like…hey! Come on. Boss’ll go mad we let a prick like that wander round his place. Messing with women, it ain’t on”

You shook your head, they thought you’d been spiked as well. This wasn’t right, none of this was right. A stupid thought jumped to the front of your fuzzy mind and you struggled to stutter it out.

“When-what date is it?”

He frowned at you for a moment before telling you the date.

“What year?”

“Sweetheart-“

“What fucking year Aaron?”

He smiled wide at your sudden outburst, his hands still clamped on either cheek. He gave a little chuckle before speaking.

“1925, sweet. You want a drink for that mouth?”

Shit.

-


	3. Mr Boss Man

Someone was whispering as you re-emerged from the haze you’d been stuck in.

“This was meant to be a legitimate fucking venture, lads. This was me playing it by the book and this is what I get for my troubles, eh? Opening fucking night, I’ve already got strange women swooning about the place”

You furrowed your brow, the ringing in your ears fading away to a hum, and then nothing. You fluttered your eyes, noticing the lights in the room had been dulled. No, you were in a different room entirely. An office, by the looks of things. The whispering was behind the couch you were lying on, along with the sound of the door shutting.

“What do we know about this?” The voice continued, sounding more done with the situation than you were. If you were slightly more conscious you would have made a joke but you were too concerned with acclimatising yourself at this particular time.

You curled your toes and realised someone had taken your shoes off. A coat was tucked over your legs. Turns out old-timey gangster boys could be pretty sweet.

“Nothing boss. Not a damn thing” The voice of the man who’d first found you took his turn and you tried to remember if he’d ever given his name. No, his twin had – Aaron.

“See, Toby, that’s a problem – because I pay you to know things”

“Well tonight you’ve paid me to find strange girls swooning boss. I’m adaptable like that” Toby replied, his cheeky tone back. Under any other circumstances you’d be enjoying it a little more. There was a pause and you could only imagine his boss was giving him a look telling him to shut up. Footsteps rang out on the creaking floorboards at your head and you slammed your eyelids shut again. They were more likely to speak freely if they assumed you were still unconscious and right now what you wanted most was information that could help form an explanation.

“You think she’s one of Sabini’s girls?” Toby asked.

“No” there was a creak on the leather rest above your head and you felt eyes on you. He was probably leaning over the top to look at you and you tried to keep your breath even, not give away any signs “there’s no reason for him to bother. We already made a deal about the girls. I don’t take none of his, he don’t take none of mine. They work where they work. No point in him staking it out. Besides, we’re the other end of the border, I made sure”

“You’re applying logic to him there, boss” Aaron added, letting him know with his tone that this obviously wasn’t a rational thing to do. The man above you hummed, the leather creaking as he pushed himself away and walked around the front of you.

“What do we know about her? Who she been with tonight?” the boss asked.

“I asked around the staff – no one saw her come in, no one saw he hanging round, no one saw nothing” Toby replied.

“How can that be?”

“Doorman says he didn’t let her in, neither”

His tone set you on edge, the accusation, the suspicion. You were settling into the thought that this wasn’t some elaborate dream, not some stupid prank gone too far. You were convincing yourself – making yourself believe – that you had time travelled. The reality of that was bending your mind but at this point accepting it was the best option. Acting as if it was a reality was going to keep you safe. And you had no friends in 1925. You had no roots, nowhere to turn.

There was a repeated click standing out from the background mumble of the band downstairs, as if someone was turning or tapping something. The silence stretched out around you, flattening against your chest and threatening to steal your breath. When do you choose to wake up? When is the best time to-?

“Well, she’s a looker, at least. I’ll give her that”

Well. Now was as good a time as any. If only so he could see your eye roll.

“Thanks, Mr Boss Man” your voice was grittier than you thought it would be and your head spun for just a few seconds as you shuffled yourself to sitting. You sighed as you rolled your head up and around the room, settling on the man behind the desk. Huh.

“Not so bad yourself” you added, flicking your eyes up to Aaron as he brought over a glass. He noticed you inspecting it for just a second too long and laughed to himself.

“It’s water. Just water” he gave you a little nod and you lifted the glass in a little salute before taking the smallest sip.

You ended up sipping until half the glass was gone, sputtering a little. You lowered the glass to the floor, running your hands over your smushed hair.

“Right, darlin’,” the boss sat forward in his chair, clapping his hands together “I’m Alfie Solomons. And I’ve got some questions for you”

-

You’d been pacing while Alfie interrogated you for nearly two hours now. At some point he’d sent the boys off and your heart had flopped down into your stomach as he flicked the locket open and closed. You watched intently, waiting for it to catch him too and send him…spinning through time in a miraculous cloud of whatever.

“This yours?” he lifted it when he caught you staring at it and you met eyes with him “or have you been nicking as well as sneaking around?”

“I told you, I walked in the front door, the same as everyone” you replied the words slowly, purposefully

“My doorman says you didn’t”

“Your doorman’s not very attentive, then” you shrugged.

“Well so it would seem, love, because if he missed you walking passed him looking like that he’d have to be a blind man, wouldn’t he?” he flicked the locket shut again, turning it over in his palm. He kept his face flat but there was a glint in his eye and you huffed a laugh.

“You don’t trust me but you’re still flirting? Going through a dry spell or something?”

He dropped the locket to the desk before him, standing from the chair to walk around and rest against the front. He sniffed and settled himself before he spoke again.

“Be straight with me”

“I have been” your voice was lower and more careful as you curled your toes against the edge of the rug you were stood on, stood side on to him. He set you with a look and you licked your lips, rolling your shoulder back just a little.

“I have been” you repeated, more resolute. You had been. You’d answered his questions truthfully. He just hadn’t asked you the important ones – your name you could answer, where you were from, technically, whether you were a spy. ‘What decade did you step through the plane of time from?’ wasn’t an obvious go-to.

“Something…isn’t right about you, sweetheart. Something’s not quite right” he rocked his finger at you.

You swallowed, trying to think of something sarcastic to say to ward him off. He continued before you could, though.

“You know there’s stories about this place” he crossed his arms across his chest “one of my mum’s old friends told me – when I said I’d bought this place, yeah? She likes to check up on me and I told her I’d bought the old place her and mum used to go. I remember her telling me about it when I was little, how magical this place was. They’d save up and go on a big night, all the girls together.

So I told this old friend I’d bought it, thought it might, I don’t know. Make her nostalgic, cheer her up a bit, happy memories. But she said that there was something not quite right about this place. She joked that it was cursed or something”

He pushed up from the table and stepped towards you. You turned your body to face him, unclasping your arms and breathing heavier. Hold it together.

“She said time didn’t pass right while you were in here. I told her it’s because she was drinking and she laughed.

She said people used to turn up out of nowhere, no one saw them come or go. I told her it’s because they were all drinking and she laughed.

She said a man turned up once and said he was from the future. She didn’t laugh. He looked terrified, she said. He looked-“

The door flung open behind you and the both of you jumped out of the bubble you’d formed around the two of you, eyes staring, shuffling towards each other.

“Sorry, boss-“

“Out”

“But I-“

“Get out!”

You winced when he screamed at the faceless voice behind you, doing nothing to calm your nerves. The door clicked shut again and he moved his eyes back down to you. You kept yours forward, moving over the chain on his chest. Your lip was clenched between your teeth as you braved a look upward.

“Where you from darling?” he whispered, gentle, the antithesis of his demeanour only a second before. Tears pricked at the edge of your eye and you swallowed, clenching your lip a little harder.

“I told you-“

“What time you from?”

Your breath left you in a gasp and you looked away as you started to cry. Speaking the words made it real. You thought you’d started to settle into it but obviously not. His hand came up to wrap around your arm, thumb scrolling in short circles over your skin as he shushed.

“Come on, love, tell me. I can’t help you if you don’t trust me”

“Why should I trust you? Why should I-“you sputtered, taking a second to settle yourself enough to speak “Why would you believe me if I told you?”

“Probably wouldn’t. But my mum wasn’t an idiot, so if she trusted that woman, then so do I”

“It’s ridiculous” you whispered, shaking your head “it’s ridiculous!”

“Ridiculous is a bit my type, darlin’. Don’t sell yourself short” he pulled a smile as he spoke and you couldn’t help return it, laughing through your sniffles.

He brought up his other hand to guide you back to the sofa and you flopped down, pulling what you had learned was his coat over your legs. He brought over a bottle of something and some glasses, pouring you a shot. You knocked it back before he’d even poured his and he smirked a little before he settled beside you, a little too close, and you took a deep breath.

“90-odd years” you breathed, dragging the back of your hand over your lips. You stared straight ahead as the reality hit you in another wave of shock.

He turned his head as you spoke, frowning in confusion.

“What is?”

“I’m from…90-odd years into the future” you gave a sad smile at the end. Your fingers were fiddling with the collar of his coat on your lap as his eyes moved between yours.

“Well…” he cleared his throat “now I feel like a dirty old man”

You broke into a spluttered laugh again and he smiled back at you.

“Yeah, you probably die before I’m even…born” you scowled and shook your head but he laughed.

You both sat there, listening to the mumble of the club below, legs separated by only his coat. You kept the edge of you lip between your teeth, worrying it nervously.

“I’m gonna have to tell that old women she was right about something for once” he kept his eyes unfocused as he spoke and you turned your head to trace over his profile. If you did have to end up getting stuck in a different time period and marrying this guy, you could have done worse.

“Why did you believe me?” you frowned.

“Why wouldn’t I?”

“Because it’s fucking ridiculous. Woman turns up out of nowhere telling you she’s from the future, she’s either drunk, fucked in the head, or…both, probably”

“Told you. Ridiculous is slightly my type, love”

You turned your head, squinting at him, but smiling nonetheless.

“Really though, why?”

“Summat in your eyes. Either you were fucked in the head and you needed help – then I weren’t just gonna send you off into the night, was I? Or…the old woman was right and you really were from the future. In which case, bloody adventure, now that!”

He clapped his hands together, rubbing his palms, and settling back in the chair.

“You’re fucking fucked in the head as well, aren’t you Mr Solomons?”

“It’s good for us to band together” he knocked the last of his glass back and stood, moving the glasses to the desk.

He fished a gun out of the drawer and you held your breath as he tucked it into his waistband, remembering that you were going to be seeing them a lot more than usual around her. He pointed to you as he made his way around the desk, took his coat from you and motioned for you to stand, helping you put it on. It was three times the size of you and he smirked as he chucked your shoes at you, barely catching them as he made his way to the door.

“You ever talk to me like that in front of people, I’m probably gonna have to shoot you. Just a warning. Pain me to do it, but it’ll have to be done, yeah?”

You nodded, gripping your bag to your stomach and he cleared his throat.

“Come on, let’s get you home”


	4. Home Sweet Home

Alfie’s place was not what you expected. He sniffed and mumbled to himself as he shuffled his way down the thin entrance way while you marvelled at the beautiful stained glass doorway he’d just walked you through. His driver – because he had one of those, and a car, you noted – had brought you across Camden to the little flat tucked onto the back of the canal. Alfie had pointed out things as you’d driven around, telling stories of childhood antics, trying to make you less twitchy.

“Come on in, love, you’re making me feels at odds in my own home here” echoed down the hallway.

You followed after him, stepping out into a hallway and not sure which way to head.

“I’m down here” you turned your head but couldn’t see him, following his voice into a little kitchen. There was no door, just an archway, so you hovered there. He was pottering around the little room, readying a teapot and trying to light an un-cooperative stove.

“Fucking thing, nuisance this is” he muttered to himself, bending back to see if the flames were under the pot yet. A smile crept over your face at the sight, a man who’d threatened to shoot you not an hour ago making tea in a cosy little kitchen. He sniffed and righted himself, wiping his hands over his waistcoat before he unbuttoned it and turned to you.

“How’d you have your tea, love?”

“Uhm…” you paused, having been silent the whole way.

“Cos, I like it so strong you might as well’ve just licked the bag, you know?” he continued, regardless of your response.

You laughed as he fished a container off the little shelf attached to the wall, flowery ceramic with a wooden lit that didn’t quite fit.

“Yeah, sounds perfect, Mr Solomons”

He hummed to himself, pulling open the little fridge and you noticed how cute it looked, the earliest version you’d seen.

“Have we got- yes, milk” he knocked the door closed and set the bottle on the counter, shrugging off his waistcoat and stepping to go past you.

You stepped back into the hallway, flattening yourself to the wall as he passed. You watched him walk down the corridor and open a door, the edge of a bed peeking out through the way. He threw the bundle of cloth in his hand onto the end, opening drawers and pulling out bundles to replace them.

“Keep an eye on that kettle for me, will you?” he tossed over his shoulder, right before he pulled the edge of his shirt from his waistband and began to lift it over his head. He had an undershirt on but you turned your head anyway and stepped into the little kitchen. The sudden thought that if events were to play out as they ‘were supposed to’ this would be your kitchen hit you. This man would be your husband. The thought didn’t terrify you as much as you thought it should. It felt right, standing here. As though you were meant to inhabit this space.

You toed off your shoes, kicking them out into the hall, then thinking better of it and retrieving them. You shot a look down the hall as you bent to pick them up but Alfie has disappeared into the room, where you couldn’t see. Music started playing lightly as you toed your way down the hall, the notes all scratchy and warm. You listened as you dropped your heels around the corner in the entryway, where he wouldn’t trip over them. Your hands trailed over the patterns in the wallpaper as you made your way back. You liked it, this place. The cosy little flat on the canal. It didn’t seem like the kind of place an old time gangster lived. You laughed to yourself a little as you wrapped a linen around the kettle handle and moved it carefully from the burner onto the wooden block on the counter.

“You laughing at my house now?” Alfie asked as he appeared in the doorway, rubbing a towel over his damp hair. You curled your toes on the cold tiles, the most authentic tights you could find doing nothing in terms of insulation and began dragging the cups over and filling them. You smiled back at him as you settled the kettle down and swiped a cup over towards him.

“I like your house. Did it start raining when I didn’t notice? Stick your head out the window like a puppy, did you?” you pulled your cheeks in and tried to control your smile, tucking your head to blow air over the tea, replacing it on the counter as steam fluttered over your face.

“What – a man’s not allowed to wash off a long day of saving stray women now, eh?”

He brought the towel from where he’d let it slump on his shoulder to snap at the back of your knee and you squeaked, jumping back. You caught your arm on the edge of the burner as you went, the metal grilling still hot to the touch and it broke your laugh into a hiss as you lifted it away.

“Ah, shit” Alfie surged forward, bringing the wet towel to your skin in a second “Fuck, sorry love”

“Ah, nonono don’t worry” you broke back into laughs, sniffing and squinting.

“You’ve been here five minutes, I’m already scarring you for life” he mumbled under his breath, angry at himself.

You smiled up at him, peeling the towel away to show him the little pink mark on your forearm.

“See? Didn’t even burn it properly” he settled but didn’t move away “Mr Solomons, I’m really-“

“Alfie. I’m at home, don’t want none of that ‘mister’ here” he reached to wet the towel under the tap and hold it back against your forearm “hold it there a bit longer, go on”

You wrapped your fingers over his and he made sure it was secure before he pulled his hand back.

“Right, sit yourself down” he motioned towards the table tucked into the corner and you pottered over, shuffling into the seat. It was in fact raining now, you realised, as you looked to the window at your side. The net curtains transformed the low beams of light into lacey patterns on the table, on your arm. The music built up in the background and you smiled again. God, you loved this place already. Maybe…if you had to be stuck somewhere, at least it was here.

“What you smiling at while you got half your arm hanging off? You going delirious on me?” Alfie asked as he placed your cup before you, dropping himself into the seat opposite you.

“I really like this house, Alfie” you replied, fingertips pressing into the fabric a little deeper.

He rested his elbow on the table, his fist against his jaw. He looked up at you and you realised now he looked as tired as you felt.

“First place I ever bought with my own money this” he lifted a finger to motion to the ceiling, keeping his eyes to you “Yeah. Lived here when I first started out. Haven’t stayed here in a while though. Have the boys keep it stocked for when I need to drop in, pressing business and the like”

“You worried I’ll think you’re not a big shot because you didn’t bring me to a mansion?” you teased him, eyes fluttering as your lethargy caught up to you again. It’d be a long, draining day but if you didn’t just want to sit here all night, in this kitchen.

“No, no. I do have one though, put that on the record” he brought his hand down to tap at the table and you smiled. He smiled back, bringing the hand up to lift the cup to blow air over the steaming liquid.

“It’s cosy in here” you snuggled against the wall as you spoke.

“You say that like you’re surprised”

“Wow, excellent perception there, Mr Solomons” you tilted your head, words rolling in their sarcasm.

“What have I told you about that?” he warned, and your cheek twitched again.

You let your eyes shut for just a moment.

“I am – surprised”

“Why?” he settled the cup back down, running a hand over his chin.

“You don’t imagine you to live in places like this”

“Whose ‘you’?” he lifted his eyes to you and you turned you head slightly, blinking.

“Club owners” you said slowly, with a tone that both of you recognised as mocking. He blinked back at you, lifting his cup again. You hadn’t pissed him off.

“What do you think we live in?”

“I think you live in houses, just not…homes? I don’t know ‘domestic gangsters’ isn’t a combination I often think of” you rolled the towel back to check your arm, the pink mark still there but not worrying you. You let it fall into a heap and swapped your hold to that of the cup.

“Everyone I’ve met has had a mother at some point, most of ‘em have wives, some of ‘em even have kids” he reeled off.

“You got a secret family tucked away in that mansion of yours, Alfie?” you met his eyes, blowing air over your own tea. You meant it as a joke but suddenly the realisation hit you. What if he did? His scoff settled your nerves.

“Nah, darlin’. Can’t find no-one to put up with me” he finished his cup, walking it over to the sink.

“Oh, well then” you lifted yourself and mimicked his actions as he moved out of the room, pointing back at you.

“Get that towel off that table. Bring it with you, not having you littering up the place” he ordered.

You rolled your eyes, not that he could see as he was already off down the corridor. The towel slid off the table, trailing behind you, and you stumbled after him. The music was coming from the open living room, tucked in next to the bedroom. You noticed the player resting on a cabinet as you walked past, spinning away in the empty room. You took in the space, like a scene from a museum.

“You gonna stand there all night? I’m trying to be hospitable here. Got a shirt laid out for you and everything, caring host as I am” Alfie appeared in the doorway next to you and you look up at him, the music spilling out into the hall with you both. He furrowed his brow as you blinked up at him, smiling.

“Oh, will you stop it” he moaned at you.

“What am I-?” you raised your arms in protest.

“You, looking like you’ve never seen the inside of a house before. Have…are you-“

“We have houses in the future, Alfie. I just really like this place” he nodded as you spoke, arms resting on the doorframe.

“Right, well. Stop being cute and get in here” he stepped back into the bedroom and you lifted your eyebrows, rolling your lips between your teeth. After a few moments, he stepped back out.

“What I mean is-“

“No, you were clear”

“No, I think I may have-“

“Cute girl reporting to your bedroom, Mister Solomons” you shuffled past him and he sighed, making a grumble in his throat that made you laugh.

“Couple hours ago you were terrified and now you’re acting like you run the place. How soon can I shove you back through whatever tunnel brought you here, eh?” he teased back as you dropped to the end of the bed. He frowned when he caught your face drop.

“I was kidding, love”

“No, it’s-I haven’t…I don’t know if I can go home. I don’t know how I got here, so I can’t…I don’t even know if I want to go home yet” you whispered the end to yourself, something in your chest twinging at the thought.

“Well, you can’t stay here, can you sweet?” he didn’t sound fully convinced himself as he perched himself against the cabinet opposite you “This ain’t your time, what you gonna do? Start from scratch?”

“Why not?” you questioned, and he paused for a moment “You told me your mum didn’t have nothing when she started here. She made a life, didn’t she?”

You caught the tug of his lips as he nodded back to you, the glint in his eye.

You thought back to the photos in the cases. The marriage certificate with both your names on it. At some point in time – the thought nearly made you laugh – you’d lived here. Lived a life here, with the man before you. Lived another life in another time.

You didn’t know if you wanted to go home.

 

 


	5. Stories

It rained deep into the night, and through to the early morning. It battered against the window, making the light dance onto the wall opposite the bed. You’d roused from a shallow nap you hadn’t realised you’d even fallen into and watched it glimmer, tucked up in the covers. Creaking steps had broken through every so often, Alfie pottering about the flat in the shadows.

You abandoned returning to sleep, throwing back the blankets. The floor was cool against your feet as you shuffled across the room. Maybe you could pinch a pair of socks from the drawers. That would mean rooting through though and that didn’t feel right so you abandoned the idea. You did pull one of the lighter blankets off the edge of the bed and threw it around your arms, dragging it behind you like a cross between a shawl and a cape.

There was no light besides that trespassing through the window and you had to bend right over the clock to check the dials. 2am. Still early, really. Half the night stretched before you. You sighed, moving towards the door.

Alfie was sprawled over the sofa that was definitely too small for him, newspaper folded and folded again as he hovered it over his face, elbow perched on the back to keep it steady. He bent his head back as you entered.

“You not sleeping?” he asked.

“I had maybe an hour, can’t drift back off. My head’s running in circles”

He hummed at your response, throwing the newspaper to the table. He groaned when he sat, rolling his shoulders.

“Backs killing me” he mumbled, and you scrunched up your body, embarrassed.

“Go take the bed, I’m not-“

“Nah, you’re a guest”

“I’m not using it, Alfie. There’s really no need” you insisted.

“My mum’d crawl from her grave if I had you sleeping on the sofa” you rolled your eyes at his dramatics, untucking the blanket from around you and throwing it to him.

“At least take that, then” he caught it and scrunched it between his palms. He scowled for a moment before dropping it and spreading the blanket over his knee.

“Tell me about her” you whispered. He froze and you lowered your head, preparing an apology in your head.

“Sorry, you’ve mentioned her a lot and I tho-“

“It’s alright, I ain’t upset”

He was looking at you when you raised your head, his hands woven together and he leaned forward on his elbows.

“Just usually don’t talk to her with anyone but the old lady, you know?” his reference to the ‘old lady’ you assumed meant the one who knew about…whatever this was, and you nodded to his response, lifting yourself to fetch a bottle and some glasses off the cabinet.

It was only when you turned back and caught Alfie looking you over that you realised how short his shirt actually was on you. You’d had the safety on the blanket cape on your way in but now you were getting self-conscious. You cleared your throat and handed him a glass, taking your place next to him. He lifted the edge of the blanket and tossed it over your knees, not meeting your eyes when you turned to give him a thankful smile.

“You’ll catch your death walking round like that” he groused, and you hummed.

“Heat your damn house then. Even the Romans had central heating, Alfie”

“Well they had a lot of good ideas, didn’t they?” you laughed at his flat tone, watching him knock back his glass and reach to re-fill it.

“How did she start over? What did she do first?” you changed the topic, pulling your legs up until you were almost foetal at his side. You shuffled the blanket to cover as much chilled skin as possible, your knees ending up basically in his lap. He sat back with his fresh glass, balancing his forearm on the peak of your knees.

“She met my dad” he looked off, across the room “hmm. First day in England. She told him to fuck off. He didn’t speak Russian then, so he probably took it as a compliment, knowing dad”

You burst out laughing and he smiled, taking a drink. He was halfway through when you snorted through your laugh and he spluttered, nearly spraying rum all down himself. He kept his lips pursed, lifting his arms to check the dribble on his shirt. You carried on laughing in your chest, hand covering your mouth so only squeaks came out. The look he shot you was priceless but he shook it away and smiled along with you.

“Yeah, she was a treasure, my mum. Took a bit of work on my father’s part” he swiped a hand over his jaw, giving another look to his shirt.

“Well, I got my Solomons guy, so where do I go next? If we’re following the plan?” you couldn’t bring the glass to your lips fast enough when he turned his head to you.

“Dunno, you ain’t told me to fuck off yet. We’ve deviating from the script here”

You laughed again and he patted your knees.

“You’re gonna need…somewhere to stay” he settled on.

“You kicking me out?” you swallowed the warming liquid, brows pulling together in mock concern as you took another gulp.

“I will if you keep interrupting me” you gave him a mock salute, glass in hand, your mouth full of rum still.

“You’re gonna need papers if you’re staying. Birth certificate is the least you can get away with. People have floods and fires all the time don’t they? Can’t help it if your mum kept all your important records in the same, terribly place box”

“You sound like you know what you’re doing here” you suggested, and he bent one brow.

“Not the first time I’ve built someone a new life, love. Circumstances are a bit different, usually have a bit more to work with but…you’ll have to do” he tapped your knee again.

“I’m going to take that as a compliment” you rested your head against the back of the sofa and he smiled at you.

“You’re gonna need a job. What do you do, out there in the future?” he pushed his hand away, indicating to the empty wall as if a portal would open right there and then.

“I’m a writer” he hummed and nodded. After a second he shook his head and raised his glass.

“Nah, I don’t need none of those”

You scoffed, leaning to put your empty glass on the table, sliding it a little further on with your foot as you lay back to your side.

“What do you need?” you asked.

“Well, I got this club. You might have heard of it” you shook your head and dropped it back to stare at the ceiling “might need someone to help me do some paperwork and stuff”

“You might do?”

“I might do” he repeated.

You let a smile pull over your face, rolling your neck to face him.

“What if I don’t want to be your secretary?”

“What, you got something better to do, sweetheart?” he smirked, and you ignored the way your heart jumped a beat.

-

“Morning”

You squinted over to the man sat at the table, taking the cup Alfie handed you, nodding your thanks.

“Morning Aaron” you groaned, your neck stiff from sleeping bunched up on the sofa. You were glad you’d heard them talking and slipped into Alfie’s room to nick some of his pyjama pants to cover you, even if the waistband had to be folded over about five times.

“How’d you know I was Aaron? I might have been Toby” he asked, with a jokingly indignant frown.

“Toby doesn’t have a scar on his finger” you sniffed as you dropped into the free chair and sipped your tea.

Aaron turned his hand slightly, balancing his own cup, and checked the front of his pointer finger.

“That’s because Toby’s the one who gave me it” he smirked to you and you smiled back, rolling your eyes over to Alfie.

There was a hammering at the door and Alfie sighed, dropping the knife he was holding and throwing his thumb behind him.

“Go let your brother in before he wakes the whole building. Mrs Cunliffe will have our guts over her washing line” he commanded, and Aaron rose from the chair. The way he took the instruction, the set of his shoulders. He looked like a loyal soldier. You wondered if that’s where they’d met. How they’d come to be these people. Whether they were still fighting a war, this time of their own making.

You waited until he was out of the room before you jumped up and tucked yourself up to Alfie’s side.

“Do they know? Did you tell them?” you whispered.

“No – best we keep this between us til we know what exactly’s happening” he whispered back.

You nodded, keeping an eye on the doorway. You could hear the boys bickering and by the knocks on the dividing wall, play-fighting.

“We’re going to need a story” you insisted, and he cast a look to you.

“You’re the writer” he nodded down. You paused, looking from one eye to the other.

“Non-fiction, Alfie. I write history books and stuff” you explained.

“Well, we’re in history aren’t we love, so you’re well suited. Couldn’t have gone better for you”

You tilted your head and shot him with a look.

“Alfie…“

“We keep it as close to the truth as possible, yeah? Less slip ups that way, less suspicion” he flipped the eggs in the pan and leant against the counter “Told you last night, not the first time I’ve dealt with someone who needs a new life making. Don’t you worry. I’m gonna get you sorted out”

He nodded to you, holding your gaze, and you nodded back with a sigh. Toby came crashing in first – literally, Aaron had thrown him off him and he’d slammed into the doorway.

“You fucking - oh” he cleared his throat and stood properly, popping the front of his coat back into place “sorry about that, miss”

“Don’t worry yourself, Toby” you waved a hand to him.

“Worry. She’s coming to work at the club and I’m not having you letching over her all day and showing us all up, right lad?” Alfie shot back to him and Toby swallowed his grin, winking at you when Alfie turned back to the cooker. You smiled and pushed away.

“I’m going for a bath” you breathed, wrapping you arms a little tighter around your waist as you shuffled passed the men.

“Do you want a-“

“Toby” Aaron warned as you made your way down the hall.

-

 


	6. Ghost Girl

“Alfie, small problem”

He was sat at the table, bent over the paper as you hovered in the doorway. You traced your eyes over his profile, waiting for him to pay attention but he didn’t move. He hummed in his throat. But that was the only response.

“I don’t have any clothes” you continued, licking at your lips, eyebrows knitting together so tight it brought a squint to your eyes.

His finger stopped tapping against the table, head turning slowly across his shoulder. You shuffled in place, tugging the blanket a little tighter around you. You lifted a hand to exaggerate your point, gesturing to yourself.

“Ah…uh. Right. I-“he cleared his throat, scratching at his beard. You shuffled about, feeling more awkward than you ever had before. You felt like you’d turned up to school and forgot your knickers or something.

“Right, well” he stumbled over the words again, hands delving into his pockets as his head tilted from side to side slowly, oscillating as his own squint deepened.

You waited for Alfie to continue but he just opened and closed his mouth, never forming his thought into words. You sighed and looked away. It hadn’t even been a real day yet.

-

Alfie had shouted that he was popping out to fetch the paper while you were in the bath. He’d herded the boys out and slammed the big glass door behind him, leaving you to get lost in your thoughts. The flat was quiet, almost silent, something that surprised you. The walls were thin and you knew there were three other flats on this floor alone.

Regardless, it was peaceful and since you hadn’t seen a shop nearby on the drive the night before you knew you had at least 20 minutes or so to get yourself sorted before Alfie returned. The flat was too damn quiet and you ended up whispering to yourself as you pottered about.

“ _So, what are you thinking about doing after you graduate?_

Oh, you know, I’m thinking about going into publishing, maybe try my hand at writing myself.

_Oh, fantastic!_

Yeah, fantastic. Getting trapped in the wrong century, washing my knickers in a strange gangster’s sink. Bloody fabulous my life’s turned out!”

The door slamming interrupted you and you froze. No way was that 20 minutes. You turned around in the middle of the bathroom, searching for something to cover yourself. You’d left the damn towel on the floor in the bedroom, along with the discarded shirt. You thought you’d only be in here for a minute or two, just long enough to let the water out of the sink and rinse off your soaking underwear. Now you were stuck in here.

“Only me!” Alfie’s voice came down the hall and you cringed, swearing under your breath.

“Ah, fuck. Fuck, I’m going to have to make a run for it” you gripped your hands into fists, rocking on your toes as you cringed at the prospect.

You steeled yourself, taking a deep breath, hand hovering on the handle. The bathroom was next to the bedroom but there was no direct entry, you had to run out into the hallway and loop back onto yourself. You twitched the door open just an inch, peering down the hallway. Alfie’s shadow was moving over the wall at the end of the hallway. He was in the kitchen. Five seconds and you were safe.

You flung the door open, dripping fabric in hand, and flung yourself out into the hallway. The bedroom door creaked open and slammed shut in seconds, and you let out a sigh of relief. A creak in the hallway.

“You alright?” echoed down the hall.

“Yeah! Just…I’ll be out in a minute” you laughed against the door. The thought that this wasn’t even the strangest thing that had happened in the last 24 hours, nor the most ridiculous, overcame you.

You turned back towards the bed and a realisation hit you. You had nothing clean to change into. Your dress was still draped over the back of the chair, beads catching the morning light as it reflected off the water outside. No way you could wear that day to day.

The shirt you’d slept in, along with the pants you’d borrowed, were slumped on the floor. Your only pair of underwear was clutched in your fists. You didn’t even have anything you could wear to the shop to buy clothes. You didn’t even have anything to wear to go to the kitchen and tell Alfie you didn’t have anything to wear to…

“Fabulous”

-

You ended up draping you bra and knickers over the chair. You probably should have left them in the bathroom where they could drain away but that would risk Alfie walking in to find them and there were some things you just weren’t ready to discuss yet. Advancements in boob technology was high on that list.

You considered putting the shirt and pants back on but that proposed more problems than fixes. Wearing the pants with no knickers felt too far for you, as aware as you were of that being irrational. That left wearing the shirt alone but with how short it was…also a problem. The giant patchwork thrown over the bed provided the most coverage and so you bundled yourself up, wrapping it tight around your chest like an oversized towel. It took five minutes of awkward shuffling in front of the door before you accepted your fate and just tried to get this whole thing over with. You’d known this man maybe 12 hours and you were already half naked in his kitchen.

“Right…that is a problem” he finally got out.

“You’re telling me”

He stood, fixing his own shirt. He went to step forward but apparently thought better of it at the last moment, clearing his throat and motioning to you.

“I’m actually gonna need to walk past you there, love. So if you wouldn’t mind?” he nodded to the side and waited as you shuffled out into the hallway, dragging your blanket gown around you.

“Bit further” he insisted.

You squinted at him, walking off down the hallway.

“I’m just trying to be a gentlemen here, love. Don’t give me that look”

“What are you, a priest now?” you shot back over your shoulder.

“Be glad my grandads buried too deep to hear you say that” he replied as he passed where you were hovering in the living room doorway. You rolled your eyes at his pointed finger, gasping when he went to step into the bedroom.

“Ah, no!” you jumped forward, slamming an arm across the entrance. He reared back, looking down at you.

“You can’t go in there”

“Why, what you been up to?” he frowned again, looking you up and down as you'd seen him do to the boys, before realising the current situation made his way of sizing people up inappropriate.

You shot him with a look, tilting your head. He smirked a little, pushing against the door but you slammed it back, nearly trapping his fingers. He threw them back like you had when you’d scorched yourself last night, holding them at his chest.

“No” you snapped at him as if you were reprimanding a puppy. He whined, squinting down at you. You made sure to hold firm. After a minute of staring at each other, he lifted his head.

“Fine. Put your dress back on. I’ll wait for you in the hallway”

“Wait, what? Why?” you questioned.

He turned and started off towards the front door.

“Be quick about it!” he barked, and you sighed once again.

-

You shuffled out of the flat, pulling the door to behind you.

“I left my coat at the club, do you-“

“Oh, you won’t need one. We’re only going up to Mrs Cunliffe’s”

“Gut lady?” you questioned after his retreating form. You’d had more conversations with his back than his face at this point.

“Ha, don’t call her that to her face. Come on” he crooked a finger at you as he set off for the stairs, turning himself round the bannister.

You stood awkwardly for a moment before pulling the door fully shut, taking off after him. It was warmer upstairs, and there were plant pots dotted around both the floor and the windowsills. Alfie turned at one of only two doors up here, knocking on it with a sniff. He looked over his shirt, tucking the edges in a little more, casting a quick look at his shoes.

You made your way after him, through the slalom of ferns. You kept your lip between your teeth, watching over the mini garden as you passed.

“My mum gave her that one” he pointed out a bright blue pot right under the window “lasted longer than she did, bless her”

You turned to look up at him as he knocked again, his eyes on the plant not the door.

“It’s beautiful” you whispered, crouching to inspect the delicate flowers.

“Alfred!” you turned your head at the woman’s voice. A lady half Alfie’s size was pulling his face down to kiss at his cheek and you rolled your lips between your teeth, lifting yourself slowly.

“How are you, dear?”

“Can’t complain, Esther. Yourself? Them boys been causing you trouble?”

You watched confused as they chattered away, the old woman laughing, and patting Alfie’s cheeks like he was a little boy. After a few moments she noticed you and gasped.

“Oh, sweetheart! Forgive me, I wasn’t being rude” You smiled and waved her off. She patted Alfie on the arm “Alfred, where you been hiding this one away?”

He cleared his throat and looked over to the window, away from you and her.

“Mum’s flowers are doing well, I see. Yeah, th-“

“Alfred, you were never very good at that. You going to be introducing me to this lovely young lady?” she shot to the point.

You were barely holding your laughter in, hiding your smile behind your fingers. Alfie was shuffling about, fidgeting with the chain at his wrist. He made sure to give you a warning look as he introduced you and you lowered to clasp your hands in front of you.

“Pleasure, Mrs Cunliffe. Sorry for disturbing you this early in the morning” you apologised with a wary smile.

“Oh no no, dear. Don’t worry yourself. Alfred, is this an introduction?” she turned to him with a smile that you knew meant something and Alfie sighed. He leaned his palm up against the doorway and swiped his free hand over his face.

“No, Esther, it’s not” he replied with a flat tone and you let your eyes trail away.

“Well, why not? You know one of these days-“

“Esther, she’s a ghost girl”

You snapped your head back when Alfie said that, confused and alarmed. Esther’s face dropped and she leaned back, clasping her own hands together.

“Oh, well. Oh”

Alfie looked her over as she zoned out a little, eyes flicking to the wall behind you. He turned his eyes to you, motioning between the both of you.

“See, Mrs Cunliffe is the lady I told you about. Do you remember? My mother’s friend” he nodded to you, letting you know it was alright.

“She knows?” you questioned.

“Oh, I know, sweetheart, yes. Oh. Right then. Well, come on in dear. Come on in. You must have had quite a shock. Alfred bring her in” she turned and shuffled into her flat.

Alfie pushed away from the wall and nodded his head to the side, looking past you down the corridor.

“Go on. In you go” he prompted.

You crossed your arms across your chest, leaning into him with your head lowered.

“Alfie, is this-?”

“It’s alright. Hey,” he knocked his fingers under your chin, getting you to look up at him “I done you wrong yet?”

You tongue darted out to wet your lips, your throat feeling dry.

“It’s not like you’ve had much time yet, you know? Keeping the possibilities in the frame”

He chuckled at you, bringing his arm up to splay a palm across your back. He nudged you towards the doorway.

“Come on. Best not to keep Esther waiting” he leaned down to whisper in your ear, chest pressed to your back as you both shuffled into the heat of the flat “she’ll set the dogs on you”

-

The dogs were tiny fluff balls, barely the size of a teddy bear put together. They ruffed at Alfie as he guided you in, Esther calling them back into the kitchen. The flat was open up here, taking up half the floor rather than a quarter, and the rooms flowed through to each other. You could see where the walls had been cut away and re-formed, supports having to be left in certain places but they’d been blended into the décor as best as they could be.

“You had that window seen to, Esther?” Alfie raised his voice so she could hear it over the music scratching lightly in the background. It was some kind of opera that you couldn’t make out. You turned to ask Alfie and saw he’d already planted himself in a seat, picking through a tin of biscuits. You tilted your head at him, pinching your brows together. He looked up at you, chewing away, and you opened you mouth, not quite sure what to say first.

“S’Russian” he pointed to the player, mouth still full of biscuit “Innit, Esther?”

She came back in with a tray, cups and teapot all set up.

“Oh, yes dear. Do you-?” she looked up at you as she picked up a tiny sugar spoon.

“Oh, just a little, just-“she put in a full spoon anyway and you exhaled, making sure to smile gratefully as she handed you a cup “thank you, very much”.

You planted yourself in a seat, smiling for real when she tapped Alfie on the knee.

“Manners. We taught you them” she scolded.

He sighed, sitting forward. He reached the tin out to you, making sure to give Esther a pointed look.

“Would you like a biscuit?”

You licked your lips, pinching a biscuit with a theatrical air.

“Thank you very much, Alfred”

He shook his head, dropping the tin down to the table a little harder than needed.

“Are you Russian, Mrs Cunliffe?” you turned to ask her and she smiled at you, a twinkle in her eye. The same as Alfie got. You wondered if by ‘mother’s friend’ he meant ‘my other mother’ because it was clear they were practically family at this point.

“My first husband” she chuckled to herself “you think Alfred can be a terror, you should have seen my Alexander. Is your tea alright, dear?”

“Oh, yes, lovely” you made sure to take another sip to placate her.

“Sugar is good for the shock. Sort you right out” she winked at you and you couldn’t help but smile back “Yes, my first husband. I remember Alfred’s father turning up with a pretty girl of his own one day, just like this”

You shot Alfie a look, slumped in his chair. He had his elbow up on the rest, fingers toying with his beard. He winked back at you and you turned your head, tongue in your cheek.

“Girl spoke maybe five words in English, Levi spoke not a lick of Russian at that time” she shook her head, laughing to herself again “There they were, all in a tizzy – ‘Alex! Where’s Alex? I need him to translate!’ Oh, that was a morning!”

“What happened?” you questioned.

“Well, they got married and this one came along” she motioned towards Alfie with a big smile, one he returned to her. It was lovely, honest. You sat quietly, letting them have their moment, drinking your too-sweet tea.

“We used to go on double dates so they actually have a proper conversation at the beginning” she chuckled and you joined her “not that they talked much together” she added with a quirked brow, sipping at her tea.

“Oh, Esther, please” Alfie scrunched his face, letting his arm flop over the rest. One of the dogs took to jumping up at it and Alfie danced his fingers for them.

“Where do you think you came from? Walked up one day and said ‘I’m here now’?” she chuckled.

“Worked for me” you whispered to yourself but she must have heard it because she broke out laughing. A proper belly laugh, raspy, and you joined her.

“Oh, Alfred. Do you know, I like her? Where are you from, dear?”

“Uhh, I was staying in London for my book but I’m-“

“No, dear. When are you from? I’ve had one from the 80’s before. She was a treat” she placed her cup down lightly, cooing at the other dog as it tottered around her ankles.

You stared at her blankly, shifting your eyes to Alfie. He shrugged.

“Told you. Thought she was just losing it until you showed up” he replied.

“Oh, Alfie. Don’t be so coarse” she snapped back at him.

Your eyes flicked between the two of them, breath catching in your throat. You stuttered over your thoughts for a few seconds, trying to catch what to ask first, second, third.

“You said a guy once, you never said anything about- a girl? Like me?” Esther nodded to you “w-when? This is happening to people? Not just…well, how do we get here?”

“Oh, sweetheart, if I knew the answer to that” she shook her head.

You shuffled forward, gripping the edging of the couch cushion on either side of your thighs.

“When did she come?” you pushed.

“Oh, must be…hasn’t been one in a while. At least that I’ve met. Hmm…Alfred was still at school. Maybe 20 years?”

“20 years since the last!” you breathed, fingers digging in deeper in the pile.

“The last I knew, dear. Doesn’t mean it hasn’t been happening more. I’ve stayed away from that place for years now. I’m going nowhere, thank you very much” she insisted, her free hand tapping heavily at her knee.

“Well…what happened to her? Did she get home?”

She paused in ruffling the dog’s ears, guiding them down to the floor again.

“No dear, she didn’t”

“Do any of them?” you asked, your voice raising slightly. You felt panicked all of a sudden. Only last night you’d been debating the strange pull to this place but now you were frantic at the thought of never being able to go home. Your mind was spinning. Staying, going, home, here. You felt like you were stuck to a pendulum, being thrown through the air from one point to the other.

“I don’t keep track. I try but…sometimes people leave, sweetheart. All the ones I’ve heard…they’re still here or they’re gone”

“Well, gone home then? It can happen? You can-“Alfie interrupted you with your name. You turned your head to him.

“She means dead, sweet. She means they’re _gone_ ” he nodded softly at the end, his eyes softening.

You gripped the cushion a little harder, sniffling.

“They died here?” you asked, the tears evident in your voice this time.

“Oh, don’t fret dear. Alfred, you’ve given her a fright. You’re not going to go up in a puff of smoke, no. They lived good lives first” she soothed, but it fell through you.

You were almost rocking as you shifted in the chair, gripping and releasing the edging. You felt breathless, a bubbling, a tearing at your chest. You flung your head up, towards Alfie.

“You acted like you’d never heard of any of this properly, like it was a scrap of a story!”

“I hadn’t. She told me…bits. It was a story!” you were angry that he was angry. He didn’t get to be pissed off, this wasn’t affecting him. This was your life that was being thrown around.

You covered your face with your hands, throwing yourself back in the chair. You heaved in new breaths, trying to steady your mind.

“Esther, I brought her up ‘cos she ain’t got any clothes but what she’s standing in. She looks about your Ida’s size, don’t she? I thought I might ask-“ Alfie diverted.

“Oh, of course dear. I’ll see what I have”

You heard her shuffling off, the dogs yapping after her. Alfie tapped at your knee but you ignored him. He sighed. There was a shuffling in front of you and when you moved your hands he was kneeling in front of you, squinting as his back twinged.

“I honestly always thought she was telling me stories. Then you turned up and I…” he lifted his eyes, trying to work out what to say “I was being straight with you, yeah? This is a fucked up situation for all involved. How did I know I weren’t losing it, same as you?”

You sniffed, meeting his eyes. You gave a small nod, letting your eyes travel over the room behind him.

“Look at me” he pushed, and you shook your head, sulking a little.

“I don’t want to” you paused for a moment “who’s Ida?”

“Esther’s daughter. She’s gone too, so be careful about it yeah?”

You nodded, still not meeting his eyes. Esther called your name from the other room and you wiped at your tears.

“Would you like to come and see if any of these are any good for you, dear?”

“Be there in just a moment, Esther!” you returned, composing yourself. Alfie tapped at your knee, lifting himself. You lifted your arms as he groaned but he waved them off.

His voice was gruff when he spoke, “Your fault for getting me down there, don’t be nice about it now”.

He rolled his shoulders once he stood and you stared up at him. He stared right back, ignoring the dog that was rumbling at his ankle. You scoffed at him and he winked, motioning with his hand to the hallway.

“Go on, off with you”

-

You stepped out from the bathroom, dresses, blouses, skirts draped over your arm.

“They’re lovely, thank you Esther. Are you sure it’s not-?”

“Oh no, dear. They’re only wasted sitting here, eh?” she smiled at you, folding some of the items that hadn’t fit you right and placing them back in the drawer. You took a moment, not sure whether it was right to ask, the best way to approach.

“Go ahead and ask me dear, you’re making me twitchy” she threw over her shoulder as she put back another jumper. You breathed a laugh at the shared phrasing you’d heard before.

“I realise a lot about Alfie, meeting you” you told her and she chuckled.

“Yes, I’m fond of Alfred. Never had a son, suppose he did that job for me” she pushed the drawer closed and opened the one below it.

“I don’t mean to pry, Esther. Only, Alfie said…Ida, she was your daughter?” you posed carefully.

“Yes, she was dear. He tell you she’s gone?” she didn’t seem upset. Happy really, to talk about her. You nodded.

“I’m very sorry”

“Oh no, dear. Nothing you could have done, you weren’t even here!” she smiled at you, a little tighter than the ones before “The War took a lot of people. Not Alfred though. No, we were blessed for that”

You fidgeted with a button on one of the draped dresses, shuffling in place in your bare feet. Of course, it hadn’t occurred to you. Alfie was probably in the war. It seemed such an odd thing. You knew it happened, you knew it was real people. But to _meet_ one of them.

“Was she a nurse?”

“She was. Did us proud” you could hear the pride in here tone and you smiled back at her, lowering your head a little “bomb went through the hospital roof and it was over, though. She wouldn’t have-“

She paused in the folding and you pulled your brows together. You stepped forward, letting the bundle of cloth fall to a chair. When your hands were free you took the jumper from her and took over.

“Wouldn’t have felt a thing” you finished for her.

“Alfred came home” she replied, nodding to herself. A consolation for her, you supposed. At least she hadn’t lost both of them.

“Can’t imagine Alfie in a war” you laughed “Though I suppose I don’t really know him yet”

“Oh, there’s time yet. And plenty to learn!” you laughed together and she pushed the drawer closed softly.

 


	7. Summerfield

“Oh, for fucks sake” Alfie exclaimed and collapsed into the armchair.

“Listen, mister-“

“I was trying to be a good man. I was trying to play it by the book, just once” you sighed and dropped to perch on the arm rest of the sofa, watching his theatrics “and this is the thanks I get”

“Are you done?” you asked, and he shot you a look, dropping his arm to the rest.

“Yeah, I’m done”

“Good. Because as thankful as I am for the…dead ladies clothes” you paused , hands moving to adjust said clothing at your hips. “I really am going to need some knickers, Alfie”

-

Alfie shut the door behind you and moved back around to the other side of the car. You did a double take, moving your focus from the clasp of your bag to where he was scurrying away.

“Uh…Alfie?” you tottered after him, trying to avoid the puddles in the unfamiliar heels as you stepped off the curb.

“There you go love. I’ll wait here for you. Come get me when you’re done and I’ll pay it off for you. Don’t rush yourself” he replied, opening his door again. You threw your arm out, flattening your palm against the surface.

“I’m not going in there alone!” you almost squealed, eyes wide as they stared up at him.

He looked up at the building, then back down to you.

“Well, I ain’t coming with you” he scoffed, an incredulous look on his face.

“Alfie! What if I slip up and blow my cover?” your voice dropped to a whisper, despite the lack of people around you.

He paused, eyes flicking back and forth.

“What cover? You’re just going to buy some knickers, she don’t need your life story, love – what situation are you possibly dreaming up that-?”

“Alfie, please! I’m very definitely in unfamiliar territory and I feel better when you’re with me. Just…you’re going to need to hold my hand for a few weeks, alright? Just until I find my feet properly”

He sighed, looking up and down the road.

“Alfie, please” you implored and he slammed the door, taking your hand in his. You brought your eyes down to where he was entangling your fingers as he led you up onto the curb.

“Alfie? I was being metaphorical about the-”

“Play along, darlin’. There’s a good girl” he scowled as he shouldered the door open and you flared your eyes up at him, mouth opening to fire back at him. You never got the chance as the women in the shop was on you like a shot.

“Good morning! How can I help you?” she crooned in a tone of semi-sincere chipperness only retail workers can muster at such an hour.

“How you doing? Listen, my wife’s having a right day of it – we’ve just got back off honeymoon and-“ It took you a second to register it but you turned your head up to him slowly, your confusion plain on your face “the whole house has gone up hasn’t it?”

“Oh, no!” she exclaimed, Alfie playing along a little too well with his sad little nod, the sincerity on his face. You rolled your tongue into your cheek, cocking your hip so you were turned into Alfie’s side. He wouldn’t meet your eye but you could see that damn glint.

“Yeah, fire in the night, neighbours say. Just-“ he threw his free hand up in the space between you and the woman gasped dramatically. You had to roll your lips between your teeth and turn yourself back towards the entrance to avoid bursting out laughing. Alfie squeezed your hand a little too tight when you let out a squeak you couldn’t quite contain.

“See, look what it’s done to her” you coughed as another laugh rolled through your chest, trying to turn it into a half convincing sob.

“Oh, I can imagine! I’m so sorry. And to spoil such a lovely time for you” you hoped she couldn’t see the reflection of your face in the glass as you shook your head, the widest smile on your face as your pinched your lips together. You felt a pat on your back and you cleared your throat, turning back around to meet her eye.

“Yes, it’s…been quite a troubling few days” you made sure to furrow your brow and nod solemnly.

“Yeah, so she’s going to need to start from scratch. Fully kitting out, the works-“

“I think the lady understands, Alfred” you squeezed at his arm, leaning your head against it, and putting on your best ‘oh, what’s he like!’ face. The woman tilted her head and gave you a sickly sweet smile, an honest one. Bless her. This was turning out to be more fun than you thought. At least it seemed like you were never going to be bored here.

“Well, we’ll do our best for you, Mr and Mrs…” she trailed off.

“Sol-“

“Summerfield” Alfie cleared his throat, interrupting you. You flicked your eyes to him and he motioned to you with a smile “She ain’t got used to not using her maiden name yet”

The woman laughed and turned, fetching something from behind the counter.

“What’s that all about?” you whispered to Alfie as he leaned down to you.

“Can’t have it going round I’m showing up in knicker shops with strange women, can I?” he replied, unhooking your hand from his arm.

“And I’m your wife now, because…?”

He scowled down at you.

“Because I can’t have it going round I’m showing up in knicker shops with _strange_ women” he repeated as if it was the most obvious thing. He had a point. 20 th century morality was going to be something to get used to, you noted. He began to free your hand from his while you were distracted and stepped away “There you go, got you set up. I’ll be in the car”

“Woah! No, sir. You’re going nowhere” you grabbed at his hand, skittering after him and yanking him back around.

“Love, I’m not-“

“I’ll tell Esther you abandoned me!” you threatened and he got very serious.

“You wouldn’t” his jaw clenched around the words, and you settled a sickly sweet smile of your own on.

“I’ll tell her you left me to fend for myself in a strange place, all alone in the big scary city” you made a fake cry face, plumping up your bottom lip. He shook his head at you and growled in his throat.

The woman cleared her throat behind you, bouncing on the toes of her very shiny heels. You turned back over your shoulder and shot her the widest smile you could.

“Do you have your current measurements?”

-

“How long have you been married now?” she asked.

You took in a deep breath before you replied but the woman interrupted.

“Oh goodness, sorry. Can you go back to how you were? Shouldn’t have you asked you in the middle of a measurement”

You exhaled, lifting your arms a little more as she adjusted the tape measure.

“Perfect, all done” she stepped away and disappeared off through the curtain and you took the time to quickly stitch together a story in your head. Standing there in your vest and pants like a kid who’d forgot their kit on sports day, desperately trying to come up with something cohesive. You settled on what Alfie had told you – keep it as close to the real story as possible, avoid details and slip ups.

She returned after a few minutes with some samples and you shuffled so she could put them on the hook.

“I got a selection, you can let me know what you like and I can refine it slightly”

You flicked through them, trying to pick the ones that were closest to what you were used to wearing as possible. A few odd but pretty looking ones took a second look but ended up in the maybe pile. When’s the next time you were going to get to buy fancy stuff here? Might as well treat yourself.

“So…how long?” you paused as she asked, flicking your eyes to hers. She was sincerely bouncy, you’d concluded. She was just one of those people.

“Uhh…just a few weeks now” A necessary lie, you told yourself. You were going to have to get good at those, might as well have some practice at something insignificant.

“Oh! How lovely!” she let you go back to flicking through the pile, moving things about as you changed your mind and switched their piles “how long have you known each other?”

You smiled to yourself and inhaled. You couldn’t find it in yourself to be annoyed at her when she was doing her best to be lovely.

“Not long” you handed her a definite no “Whole things been a whirlwind, start to finish”

You weren’t lying.

“How romantic”

You hummed back at her. She managed about ten seconds before she was at it again.

“Where did you meet? I love a good meet-cute story” her head bounced around, and the feeling that you were a terrible, terrible person for leading her around this story settled into your stomach.

“Uhh…I was…” you scrambled for the best explanation and she raised her head when you laughed “I was lost. I was really lost. And Alfie took me home. He looked after me. Don't know what I would have done if he hadn't have been...him”

She didn’t reply, smiling down at the hangers in her hands. Your tone had dropped as you spoke, settled into a quiet affection. You lowered your eyes, thinking of what you’d been doing at this time yesterday. Picking out your dress, picking out your shoes, oblivious to what was coming. You quirked your lips, taking a clean breath, and handed over the hangers to her.

“Uh…these are the ‘no’s’. I like the…I like the blue, though”

She nodded to you, almost shy.

“I’ll see what we have”

-

Alfie was sat on a fancy sofa in the outer room as you exited. He was leaning back, keeping his eyes on the door. Probably checking no-one could see him from the street. He turned at the sound of your scoff. Emily, as you’d learned bubble-girls names was, made her way out with the armfuls of lace and ribbon and he turned his head back.

“You cleaned me out, have you?”

“Well I’m sure you wouldn’t want me to go without, would you hubby?” you swayed as you spoke, giving him a satisfied smile. His eye twitched before he rose, stepping to you.

“No, see, if I was your husband, I’d be getting a treat when I got home, wouldn’t I?” he near whispered, keeping his eye on the counter where Emily was wrapping and bagging your purchases.

“Oh, I don’t know. Play your cards right, hubby, we’ll see where this goes” you gave him a wink, turned on the spot, and left him nervously shuffling surrounded by pink velvet curtains.

-

You pottered into the kitchen, all cosy in your new pyjamas. Alfie smirked as you walked in, chopping up vegetable for whatever it was he was making.

“You laughing at my jimmy-jams, Mr Solomons?”

“Wouldn’t dare, Mrs Summerfield” he emphasised and you snorted a laugh, making him laugh along. You pulled yourself up to perch on the counter and he shot you a look.

“Where did that come from? Did you make it up on the spot or do you have alias’ just stored away up there?” you flicked a finger up at your own head.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” he teased.

“It’s why I asked” you drolled back.

He smirked again, dropping the knife. He moved in front of you, reaching for your hips and you had no idea what to do. He gripped them, dragging you forward and lifting you to the floor. He shuffled you out of the way and you tutted as he laughed and opened the cupboard that had been behind your head.

“There was a picture on the wall” he said, shutting the cupboard and dosing out herbs into the pan. Your brows furrowed as your mind swept over the memory of all the art on the walls you'd absolutely ignored.

“What you talking about?”

“Summerfield. There was a picture on the wall…of a-“

“Summery field. You are kidding me?” the memory hit you of the shiny frame behind the counter.

He turned as he stepped back, shrugging.

“I had to think fast, like you could do better”

You let out a breath of laughter and dropped into the seat.

“I went up and had a chat with Esther while you were on the phone” you revealed.

“Oh yeah? You getting cosy?”

You smiled at him, fidgeting with the patterns at the edge of the table.

“She wanted to check up on me”

“She’s like that” he flipped the pan up and you realised he knew what he was doing here. Alfie Solomons, big bad gangster chef.

“Was Esther living here when you moved in?”

“It’s why I moved in” he replied, throwing a tea towel over his shoulder. He gave you a look and you smiled back at him. He turned to put a new pot on the hob and turned his back to you.

“This’ll be ready in about 5 minutes if you wanna go get sorted, love”

You bit your lip, leaning forward.

“When you said you bought this place, I thought you meant the flat. But you meant the building, didn’t you, Alfie?”

He gave a little pause, bending to check on the bread in the oven.

“I did yeah” he agreed, nonchalant as you scoffed a laugh.

“You own this whole building?”

“I do” he continued stirring the pot. You turned in the seat so you were across it, leaning your back against the wall and pulling your legs up to hug to your chest.

“They were going to kick the old ladies out” you continued.

“They were”

“So you bought the building so they couldn’t”

“I did”

You smiled, dropping your head.

“You’re a good man aren’t you, Alfie Solomons?”

“I am not. Wash your mouth out or you won’t get any supper” he replied and you laughed, letting your feet drop to the floor. He turned his head slightly as you approached, before looking back to his work. You pushed up on your toes and pecked a kiss to his cheek.

“Your mum would be proud of you” you gave a squeeze to his arm before you moved around him and stepped out of the room. You heard him hum and the sound of pots and pans paused until you were nearly at the bedroom door. There was a sudden pop and crash and you were about to turn and check everything was alright when you heard his shout.

“Maybe make that 10 minutes, yeah?!”

 


	8. Paperwork

The curtain rings screeched along the rail as they were flung apart.

“Up and at ‘em, there’s a good girl!” Alfie's gruff voice boomed at you.

You moaned and mumbled a garbled message into the pillow, scrunching yourself up in the bed.

“What was that?” he questioned, leaning over the end of the mattress, the footboard squeaking slightly as he applied his weight to it. The blanket was pulled down, and he chuckled as he dodged the pillow you threw at him.

You sighed and pushed yourself up from the bed, rising to your knees. You turned your head over your shoulder to where he was leaning on the doorframe.

“I said – ‘stop calling me girl’, Alfie! And stop barging in here while I'm sleeping. And stop stealing my blankets! And stop pulling that face that says 'it's my room and my blankets' – I know and...” You realised how futile your efforts were, and swallowed the rest of your words. He lifted his arm, resting his forearm against the wood and staring back at you blankly.

“Would you like breakfast before work?” the chain on his wrist jangled as he flicked his hand in the air.

You scowled and crawled to the edge of the bed. The quilt tangled around your ankle and you flopped to your side in your sleepy state.

“Yes…I would. Thank you”

“Alright, what would you like?”

“I would like…toast. Please.” you mumbled back, wiping at your eye, confused at what was happening.

“Toast. Right.” he reached out for the door handle and pulled it closed behind him, leaving you squinting on the bed.

-

“Well, good morning” a familiar voice greeted you the second you stepped into view.

“Toby, piss off. There’s a good lad. Aaron!” Alfie bellowed, making you drop your head and laugh. Toby immediately turned back to the group of men he’d been talking with. You kept stride with Alfie, heels clacking on the damp floor as you progressed through the warehouse. Your hands were deep in the pockets of the coat you’d been re-united with, keeping the swirling chill at bay.

“You really work in a shadowy bad-guy dungeon? Really, Alfred?” you lifted your head as he paused to unlock a door, turning his head to you slightly. He stepped in without replying.

“I hope I’m not going to be stuck down here” you snarked after him, hovering in the doorway.

Aaron gave you a side glance as he passed, following Alfie into the office.

“You need me boss?” he pulled one hand from his pocket, throwing a thumb over his shoulder “or should I go fetch one of the other dungeon men?”

You rolled your eyes, moving into the office as well.

“Don’t be bitter, Aaron. You’re still my favourite. I mean, I only know four people by name here and all but...wait no, five. The knicker lady.” You shrugged, and patted Aaron's arm, turning to Alfie. He was digging in a drawer, his eyes still on the two of you.

“You done?” he asked sarcastically and you turned to Aaron with a flair.

“He stormed into my bedroom this morning, can you believe that, Aaron? I could have been indecent”

“ _My_ bedroom, you mean” Alfie emphasised “you’ve kicked me out”

“You offered! I said you could have it back and you started off with a whole thing about your dead mother of all things”

Aaron looked between the two of you, expression blank.

“Should I come back, boss?” he questioned.

Alfie pushed the drawer back with a slam and stood, eyeing Aaron.

“You’re in charge today. I’m taking this one over to the club. Showing her the ropes” he pointed to you, then set back about digging through piles of paper.

“Wh-’this one’? Am I a chicken or something?” you repeated but both men ignored you. You let your eyes drift over as Aaron slipped out of English and asked him a question you didn’t understand. It went on for a while and finally you sighed.

“If you’re going to switch languages to talk about a person, maybe try not to look and point at them throughout it, yeah?” you rested your temple against the door frame.

Both men turned to you.

“Don’t worry, sweet” Aaron winked as he walked backwards towards the door “you’re still my favourite”

“I don’t like him anymore. I want Toby back” you said to Alfie and you heard Aaron laugh as he walked away.

-

“What were you talking to Aaron about?” you asked Alfie as you got out of the car in front of the club. It looked different in the day light and your chest tightened a little. Your blood started buzzing. Was it right to come back here? What if you suddenly disappeared back into the future? A blip that was here then gone.

“He was asking whether you were alright” he replied, and your eyebrows quirked.

“He couldn’t have asked me that?” you lowered your head from where you were staring up at the sign, stepping up onto the pavement after him.

“Not if you were doing well, love. If you were legit” he replied, unlocking the door.

“Oh.” you paused, considering. “Well, am I?” he spanned the door with his arm, stepping back to let you in.

“I told him you were” he said as he locked the doors behind you both.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah” he moved away from the entrance but you stayed hovering. He turned back after a moment “Well, you’ve had a couple chances to strangle me in my sleep and you ain’t done it yet, have you?”

“I might be biding my time” you shrugged, almost annoyed at the accusation that you weren’t going to murder him. You needed more sleep.

“Nah, you’re not patient enough for that”

“You know nothing about me” you insisted, and he scoffed.

“I know what your knickers look like, for a start” he threw over his shoulder as he opened the inner doors. Your mouth dropped open and you surged after him, batting the door away as it tried to close itself after him.

“How dare you!”

“Yeah, yeah” waving a hand behin him, he moved off towards a door behind the bar that you knew led up to the staff entrance to the upper level. It was the one you’d come down two nights before. Across the room was the fancy staircase that you’d gone up, in the other world. Alfie noticed you moving your eyes around them, stood stock still. Eyes to the door. Eyes to the staircase. Eyes to the balcony. Repeat.

“Hey” you broke out of your trance to meet his eyes “come on. It’s alright. You won’t disappear”

He held his hand out and you eyed it warily.

“Esther said her girl tried to come back. It didn’t work. You won’t disappear”

“One-way street?” your voice was small, betraying your apprehension.

“Seems that way”

You sighed, teeth biting into the fragile inner edge of your lip. There were little tears there, the skin showing the stress of the last few days. Rips marked onto a map of your journey here.

“Ok” you reached out and took his hand, weaving the fingers together tightly. He guided you to the doorway, all the way up the stairs, across the balcony. Like you had vertigo. Like someone afraid of heights trying to breath deep and lock their eyes ahead. His fingers held yours tight, keeping you anchored. You won’t disappear.

-

“You’re good at this”

“Filling out half-done paperwork? Does it take enormous skill?” you murmured, crossing off an entry.

Alfie placed a cup to the side of your paper and you smiled, trying to finish off the column a little quicker. The steam rose from it, dancing over to you. It swirled around the pencil as it turned and made your smile spread a little wider.

“You’ve done this before” he added, an accusation.

“Summer job in a publishers. Internships for uni. Time adds up” you shrugged.

He hummed, and you could hear metal softly jangling. You thought it was just the chain on his wrist, grating against itself as it twisted around.

“Thought you might want this back”

Alfie dropped the locket onto the table before you and you raised your head as it clinked against the surface. Your sore fingers reached out, pencil forgotten, as you turned it over. Inspecting.

“It’s not really mine” you shook your head, fingers tracing it with care.

“No? So I was right then, you were thieving?” he mock-accused.

You smiled up at him as he dragged a chair closer to the desk you’d been working at.

“It’s what- I think it brought me here. I was researching my book and-“you paused, frantically re-writing the story in your head. You couldn’t tell him about the marriage certificate. Or the photograph. Not yet.

“And what?”

“I uh…” you cleared your throat, finalising your draft. Stick to the truth, Alfie had said. As close as possible “got a lead to this place. There was a mini-museum kind of thing, up here. One of the offices. Not yours. They’d found things in the re-model. Newspapers used to line the floors and stuff, you know? Coins that had dropped into places. Some of them they thought you’d left in the walls for them to find, like a time capsule”

He shook his head, taking a drink.

“Not me”

“No, well some of them were from later. You haven't done it yet, probably” not technically a lie. That kept scrolling through your mind, more and more. No matter who you were talking to – everything was ‘not technically a lie’. It was exhausting. It didn’t feel right, either. Not to Alfie. Not to him. It was for his…protection though. It was for him.

“When?”

You shrugged.

“Later. About a year or so I think, that was one of the papers. Anniversary of this place opening”

“Ah” he lifted a finger from the glass, pointing it to you “so we last the year then. That’s good. Nice to know. Can you tell a friend of mine that because he don’t seem convinced?”

You smiled back at him, lowering your head to turn the locket over again.

“I picked this up, it cut my hand. I dropped it, bled on the floor. Went to pick it up, clean it up. I was here” you recited.

“Just like that?”

“Just…like that. Lifted my head and the world had spun around me”

“Fuck me. That’s…” he took another drink.

“Yeah”

“Seems a bit anti-climactic, don’t it?” he replied, licking at his lips, barely done swallowing. You tilted your head at him, squinting.

“Wha-“

“I don’t mean – don’t look at me like that. I just meant-“

“That I should have gone arse over tit into a swirling chasm? Alice in Wonderland style?”

“Little bit, yeah” he shrugged.

You scoffed at him, fingers messing with the mechanism on the locket. It sprung open again and you noticed something you hadn’t before. There was a seam between the inner and outer layer. Probably loosened when you’d dropped it, or from the opening and closing so many times in a short period. You frowned, flicking at it with your nail.

“What is it?”

“I think…I think there’s something in here” you bent over it, held it just a few centimetres away from your eye as you inspected it.

“Nah, it’s empty. I looked. When you were out cold”

“No, Alfie, look” you stood and went to lean over the table, ending up changing course and hurrying around to sit on his armrest instead “Look.”

Alfie covered his hands with yours, taking the locket from you gently.

“Oh, yeah.” he realised as he eyed it. He wiggled one set of fingers towards the door. “There’s a box in my office cabinet, blue one. Bring it here”

“ _Please_ ” you reminded him “Esther taught you manners”

You slid off the rest and strode out of the room. Alfie’s office was only next door so it was a short journey.

“Which one?!” You shouted through the wall as you surveyed the shelves.

“Blue one”

You sighed, arms splaying out in front of you.

“Yeah, I…there are about six?”

“It’s got a…seal on the top” you could see him motioning with his hand and then realising you couldn’t see him in your head. It took a few seconds to flick each one up so you could see the lid, pushing onto your toes. You picked up a smaller box and carried it back through to him. He opened it up, taking a little scope out of it and trapping it in his eye. You covered your laugh with your hand, shaking your head at him when he scowled up at you.

“Sorry, it just looks…go on” you insisted.

He inspected the seam, clicking at you to pass him the box after a few moment. He took out a little pick and started digging at it.

“You’re right. There’s a little compartment back here” he dropped the scope, catching it at his chest. He passed it over to you and you put it back carefully as he carried on his work.

“Ah, here” he pried it off slowly, tipping the locket over on the table beside your hip. You turned, sitting back a little further on the edge of the desk. A small piece of metal came tumbling out, trying to escape across the desk. You caught it, pinching it up between your fingers.

“That’s not for…what’s that for? It’s tiny!?”

“Safety deposit box” Alfie sniffed, settling back in the chair. He caught the thin chain at his neck with a finger, dragging it out from under his shirt. He fumbled through the pendants for a second, lifting one above the other “I’ve got one just like it. Bank up by the library. They have ‘em special made, look at the top there”

You moved your arm over, lining them up together.

“They’re the same” you agreed.

“You din’t put that there?” he questioned, finger flicking to point out at it.

“No. Got no idea what’s in it – if anything” you shook your head at him, dropping it into the palm of your other hand and inspecting it again.

“Hmm” he leaned forward onto his knees, clapping his hands together. He linked his fingers, nodding his hands in the space between his knees “well then. Shall we find out?”

-

“God, this place is fancy” you swore under your breath.

Alfie walked you through the thick wooden doors into the lobby, light pouring in from the high stained windows.

“Should be. I don’t go small, sweetheart” he sniffed and you smiled across to him. He brought his hand out of his pocket and lay it across the small of your back, guiding you over to a desk.

“This is my guy. He’s good, knows not to ask any questions. Business such as ours, you learn who to trust, and he's one of them” you nodded back at him, steeling yourself as you approached the counter. Something about speaking to new people here made you more nervous than it ever had at home. The threat of stepping into the unknown loomed over you a little heavier.

“Good afternoon, Mr Solomons” Alfie nodded to him.

“Bailey. I’m gonna need to go downstairs” the man nodded, waving someone over to cover his station. He lifted his arm to indicate the way and you stuttered your gaze up to Alfie. That easy? He lifted his hand to guide you again and you followed after the man.

As he led you down, you remembered once more exactly who your saviour was. A gangster. A criminal. A man who had ill gotten gains stashed about the place. A man who was good at secret lives and secret lies. And yet, you couldn't cause the thought to trouble you the way it should. Something about the way his hand rested between your shoulder blades as he guided you about. The way he cast a quick wink down to you as you peered up at him. The way he lifted your collar up to more snugly catch the back of your neck as the cool air of the lock up twisted around the pair of you.

Bailey led you down a corridor, and then a set of stairs. He unlocked doors and re-locked them as you went, making you feel like you were getting deeper and deeper into a snare. Alfie wasn’t fussed though and you brought your hand up to wrap around his arm. Anchoring.

“Hang on, Bailey. It’s not my box today, it’s hers” Alfie said as he turned to you. Bailey was about to unlock a door off to the side but stalled at Alfie’s words. He motioned to your hand where you had a little envelope clutched, the key inside “What numbers on it?”

You opened it up, tipping it out onto your hand. You squinted down at the little number engraved into the metal.

“Uhh, 224”

“Well, that’s just below yours, Mr Solomons” Alfie turned his head to Bailey as he carried on unlocking the door, then back to you. You shrugged, shaking your head. You moved into the room behind him, waiting as he retrieved the box. He nodded to Alfie and stepped out of the room, shutting the door behind him.

“He’ll wait in the hall until we’re done. They’re big on privacy around here” Alfie told you, noticing your confused look. He turned the box and pushed it over to where you were stood on the opposite side of the table stuck in the middle of the room “Here we are then”

He leant forward, crossing his arms on the table. You looked down at him, then to the box.

“I don’t…give me a minute” you asked, teeth worrying at your torn lip once more.

“Want me to do it?” he prodded after a few heavy seconds, and you shook your head.

“No, no. I just need a minute. What if…there’s…I can’t even think what’ll be in there” a sudden thought struck you “What if it’s the way home?”

He stood, moving around the table and standing next to you. Right next to you. Almost pushed into your side. You both stared down at the box, key clutched in your hand before you.

“What if the thing that takes you home is hidden in the thing that brings you here? Like a complete circle” you continued.

“Better say goodbye now then” he nudged you and you turned to him. He was joking but his eyes weren’t. He stared down at you, rolling his jaw slightly. After a moment he snapped out of it, wiping at his jaw with his hand “go on, get on with it. I need time to come up with a story for Bailey in case you disappear”

You settled the key in the lock, turning it but not opening it. Alfie brought his hand up to rest on the back of your neck again, running his thumb over your skin. Another bite to your lip. You turned the lock, flung the lid up, inhaled deep in one fluid movement. Both of you stalled for a moment, waiting for the box to…suck you in or send your flying or something?

Alfie cleared his throat and removed his hand as though your skin had started burning him. He stepped off, hands in his pockets, and did a lap of the table.

“Right, well. It’s just papers and stuff isn’t it? That’s boring. What am I going to do with that?” you noted his tone, his pacing.

“Alfie, were you worried about me?” you questioned, head tilting as the thought settled in.

“I was not!” he spat back, trying his best to look offended at the meer suggestion that he held any modicum of affection for you.

“Alfie, were you going to miss me?” you pushed once more.

“I was not. Just…worried about what I was gonna tell Esther is all. Look through your papers, come on. Haven’t got all afternoon” he motioned to the box, turning to rest against the table. You ran your eyes over his back, a smile pulling at the edge of your mouth. You dipped your eyes, flicking them up once last time as he rolled his shoulders, as though a shiver ran through him.

“It’s…oh my God, there’s money in here, Alfie!” you lifted the notes, flicking through them. Not the useless tenners you’d stuff into a gap between the skirting in Alfie’s bedroom. Old money, or rather modern money, you reminded yourself. He turned his head over his shoulder.

“It is a bank box, love”

“I know but…It’s one I’ve got a key to and I don’t know why. Who put this here?” you flapped the money about in the air between you, and he shrugged.

“Your guess is as good as mine”

You flicked through the money.

“There’s a lot here, Alfie. Here, check. I don't...I don't know what that's worth, you know?” he turned around properly, taking the stack from you and unwrapping it. He started counting it out on the table and you dived back into the box.

“What else is in there?” he asked, not looking up from his work. It took you a while to realise what you were looking at, digging out sheet after sheet.

“My life” your replied, eyes rolling over the words, then back up to him. He paused in counting, eyes flicking to yours.

“Your life?”

“Backstory. Look, my name’s at the top” you turned the page to him. He reached out and took the sheet you were holding and you stuttered through the rest, laying them out before him.

“It’s got my name, date of birth, where I was born. My school. My parents…my parents’ information. No legal documents, nothing that could get me done for fraud but…no wait…” you lifted a sheet and turned it to him “house deed. Signed and stamped. Apparently I grew up there, according to that other sheet”

He frowned, face scrunching up as he moved around the table and started shifting through the papers with you.

“I didn’t put any of these here. Alfie, I swear I’ve never seen any of this shit before” you started whispering as you realised you could hear Bailey speaking to someone else outside the door. Alfie carried on, not responding to you. He flicked through a few more sheets, turning some of the others he’d already checked around and cross-referencing names, dates.

“None of this is…you’re right. Anything legal is in your parents’ name. You’ve got plausible deniability should they be found”

“They’re not my parents though. It _says_ ‘mother’, and “father” but I have no idea who those people are, I-”

“Obviously. I bet they’re real people here though. Dead, most likely. You take their identity and- Yeah, look” he turned a sheet over into your shaking fingers. This was the weird night at the library again. You had to remind yourself that was this week. This was all happening in the space of a week.

“Death certificates” you confirmed.

“Real ones. I know fake documents. No matter how good they are – but they’re legit” he tapped the back of the paper and you dropped it to the table. You were breathless, sighing over and over again. Every few seconds, drawing in new breath, collapsing in on yourself. Wordless.

“I didn’t put these here” you turned to Alfie, as if you were being accused.

“I know. I believe you” he flicked the paper back around and gave it a second look.

“You shouldn’t. Why are you…why do you keep trusting me? You should be…dragging me into the street. I don’t know!”

“Once I accepted the original premise, everything after kind of comes with it, doesn’t it? You fell through time. Couple of dodgy documents springing up out of nowhere isn’t gonna shake my faith, love. In fact, it re-affirms that this shit show’s real. The more dodgy stuff appears, the more I believe you” he laughed to himself.

You kept your eyes to his, wiping away the tear that fell with the back of your hand.

“You believe me?” you grasped for the re-assurance.

“I believe you” he moved his eyes over your face and for a second it looked as if he was going to raise his hand to comfort you. There was a flicker in his eyes as he second guessed himself. He turned his head, letting you compose yourself. Shuffled the papers about into a pile.

“Right, these are helpful actually. You need to study these, missus. Need to get this story deep into your head. Understand?”

You nodded, staring straight ahead at the wall of boxes, tracing the grid. Line after line. Orderly.

“Then I can give them over to my guy and they can-” he let the lid clang shut and it rang out, echoing into the hollow room.“You’re not going to disappear” he spoke, mainly to himself. A whisper. An afterthought. A reassurance. He was staring at the box, eyes stern, as though daring it to try and take you now.

“Alfie?”

A hum in response. A squeeze on his forearm.

“I’m not going to disappear” you insisted.

-

 

 


	9. Pickles

You walked on auto-pilot back up to the surface. The first drops of rain tickled at your skin and dragged you out of your trance. You hadn’t even realised you were on the street until then. Alfie looped his arm around you, gripping at your shoulder.

“Come on, love. Let’s go home” he insisted, but you rolled your shoulder, trying to shrug off his hand.

“No, I don’t want to go yet. I – I need to think for a while”

Alfie stood quietly as you turned yourself in circles, not knowing what to do with yourself. You kept muttering to yourself, trying to sort your head out.

“I- you go home” you waved him off, stepping back and almost tripping over the steps.

“Thought you didn’t want to be alone for a bit”

“I changed my mind. I – no, I haven’t. Fuck. Fuck” you emphasised.

“Sweetheart-“

“What the hell is going on, Alfie? What the hell is…” you couldn’t swallow the tears any more, turning and walking off.

“Where you going?” he shouted after you.

-

The rain had long since settled on the grass by the time you made it to the park. You had no idea where you were, following your feet where they led you. Alfie was a few paces behind. Letting you go. Letting you breathe.

Your feet stuttered by a bench before the lake. Then they started screaming. You contemplated joining them for a moment before you realised there were children playing across the way, businessmen reading papers, couples strolling about. Drawing attention to yourself probably wasn’t the best plan for the evening. Also, traumatising children. You let yourself drop to the bench instead, collapsing as though someone had let the air out of you.

“Oh, well thank fuck for that. I thought I was gonna have to break a shin or two to get you to stop” Alfie snarked, standing at the edge of the bench and turning away from you.

“I think it’s finally hitting me. I think it took a few days to sink in properly. I feel like a bus hit me” you whimpered.

“Don’t start crying again,” Alfie pointed to you, not turning his head “I don’t know what to do with you when you cry. It makes me-“he sighed and let it drop, along with his hand.

“Who do you think- in the other world, there were things that led me to the club. That led me here. Someone brought me here. This isn’t…something is working at this. Working to make this happen”

“Something?”

“I don’t know…the universe? Who else can yank people through time? You don’t think it’s convenient that everything is where it needs to be?

I’ve been thinking that the locket was there because I put it there in this time, so I could find it in the other. That I could finish the circle. But there’s no way I could have put the box there. I would have to go back in time to before I went back in time. Something else is filling in the blanks!”

“You’re losing me” Alfie added.

You sighed, resting your head back against the wood.

“I think the universe brought me here. I think…she brings us here. The ghosts. People that are needed here, maybe. Or people…born in the wrong time? I don’t know. But she’s doing it on purpose. I’m telling you”

“Why is ‘she’ a ‘she’?”

You lifted your head, quirking a brow to him.

“She packed me a box of stuff I’d need and brought a grandma to look after me, Alfie. She’s my cosmic mother in all this. I’m surprised she’s not ringing me up to ask if she needs to post me an extra jumper or something”

He shook his head but smiled at you nonetheless.

“Do you think…do you think the other world is still going? Do you think time is still passing without me?” you blew air out of your nose, the beginnings of a laugh “is that entirely conceited to ask?”

Alfie dipped his hands into his pockets, coming to sit beside you. You kept your eyes out over the water, following a duck as it propelled itself across. Out by itself, away from the crowd. Dipping under and rising. Under and rising.

“No, I think it’s the logical place to go” he sniffed “I think it’s going on”

You nodded. Took a few moments.

“Do you think people know I’m gone? Do you think I’ve been reported missing?”

“Depends. Do you have people to miss you?”

“Some. Not much family left. Friends. Publisher” you laughed at the end “She’ll be furious about my deadline if nothing else”

He chuckled, turning to look out to the water as well. You crossed one leg over the other, bobbing your foot back and forth. Trying to shake out the fatigue.

“If she’s doing this, ‘The Universe’ - I hope she makes people forget me” you continued.

You saw Alfie turn his head to you but you didn’t meet his eyes.

“I hope she makes it so that world carries on as if I was never there to begin with. Made me disappear” you murmured.

“How could you want that?” he scowled as he spoke.

You shrugged.

“I can’t stand being a ghost. I can’t stand the thought of people worrying about me. Not if I’m never going back. It’s not fair. It’s not…I can’t be someone’s loose end. If only because it means I’ll have one too.

Maybe that’s what it is – me projecting. It’s easier to cut ties to that place if I think nothing’s left. If they’ve moved on, I have to as well”

“It don’t have to be easy. It doesn’t have to be this place or that”

“Yes it does. I can’t live half in, half out. This is the way it has to be if I’m going to survive here” you replied. Alfie sighed, turning so he was facing you as well as could on the bench.

“No, it don’t. I can’t go back to who I was ten years ago, don’t mean it didn’t make me who I am. You don’t have to cut it off and wipe it out like it never existed. You…build on it. You know?” you lifted your head to him. He swallowed, looked away, and then back “Listen, I don’t have anything prophetic to say, love. You’ll have to go to Esther for that, alright?”

You rolled your eyes, taking a new breath.

“Just – don’t be so quick to want to disappear. Alright?” he turned back to the front, leaving his elbow up on the back of the bench. He lifted his arm up over and around your shoulders after a moment. He let his hand rest on the plank, loose by your shoulder.

“Would you want to remember me if I went back? Knowing you’d never get to see me again?” you posed. He groaned lightly, using his free hand to wipe at his eyes.

“Seems all I ever have of people is memories”

You let the question drop. Let the silence fall.

-

“This gravy is shit” you mumbled, dipping another chip into the puddle.

“Give it here then” Alfie reached over and stole it, along with the whole package. You whined at him, turning your head down when something echoed you.

“Oh!” you dropped down to stroke at the trembling dog, feeling for a collar.

“Hey, boss” Toby stepped out from under the cover of the entryway to the house. Alfie handed him what was left of the chips which he quickly dug into.

“What’s going on here then?” Alfie groaned as he dropped beside you. He licked the last of the gravy off his finger before joining you in swiping over its dotty back.

“He’s been hanging around the warehouse for a couple of days. Boys think he’s a stray because he’s been sleeping round the barrels. Took him to the vet, he says he’s fine and clean and everything. Just needs somewhere to stay. Aaron said come see if Esther could take him” Toby mumbled.

“The boys won’t like that” Alfie countered and Toby nodded, mouth full of chips.

“That’s what she said” he mumbled.

“We can have him, can’t we Alfie?” you turned your head to him, eyebrows cinched together. He tilted his head.

“Ah, I don’t-“

“Alfie! Look at the little thing!” you nodded down to the dog who was sniffing at your coat and stepping up onto your bent knees.

“We can’t go taking in strays just cos they wander up, love” he countered.

“You took me in” you shrugged.

“That’s different”

“Is it? Look at him, Alfie” you lifted the dogs face, pulling a face.

“Stop it” he deadpanned.

“Stop what?”

“Trying to look all cute and convincing. We’ve talked about this” he pointed at you.

“Don’t look at my face then” you tilted your head so it was resting on top of the dog’s ears, making a baby voice “Look at his”

Alfie grumbled in his throat, looking away for a moment. He turned his head, looking at the dog, who whined back.

“They’re a good looking dog” he agreed.

“They’re a beautiful dog” Toby added, scrunching the paper up. Alfie lifted his eyes, not impressed with his addition.

“Whose gonna look after ‘em though? We’re both gonna be at work and Esther can’t keep coming up and down them stairs to check on him all day”

“I’ll take him to the club with me. He’ll make me feel better. I’m going to be all alone in there most of the day and he can keep me company. He can be like a mascot! Little Mr…Pickles. You’ve got to have the best dog in the best club in London” you wiggled his floppy ears, pouting at Alfie.

“Fine” he raised his hand when you squeaked “but we’re not calling ‘em Pickles”

Pickles barked at the name and you laughed, scratching at their ears.

“Don’t listen to him, Pickles. No”

“Oh, for fucks sake” Alfie rose and walked away, barging past Toby. You smiled after him, hugging Pickles to your side.

“Aw, that’s lovely” Toby grinned “You know, I feel like I’ve done something good today”

“You have, Tobias. You really have” you insisted, cuddling the soggy dog into your coat.

“Stop! Calling people their full names. It’s not as endearing as you think it is” Alfie shouted behind him, the door shutting behind him as he disappeared into the house.

“Come on, Mr Pickles. Let’s get you a bath” you stood, dotting your fingers to his head to get him to follow you, looking up to Toby “You coming?”

“What – for a bath?”

You turned and glared at him, holding the door open for Pickles to patter in, shaking off the light mist on his coat.

“For a slap at this rate” you countered, stepping in.

“Thanks for the chips, by the way”

“Yeah, yeah” you waved over your shoulder as you ascended the stairs.

-

There was a week or two of lull after the bank. Settling into a new routine. Breakfast with Alfie, work with Pickles, tea with Esther. Take Pickles for a walk, practice your backstory, read one of the three hundred books shoved into the cabinet below the music player.

On weekends Toby and Aaron came round for dinner and you sat on the living room floor, getting drunk and listening to old war stories. You tried to dismiss the humming in the back of your mind. It was dissipating, slowly. Things were clicking into place.

Alfie had slapped an envelope on the kitchen table one night.

“Congratulations. It’s a fully grown woman”

You’d scowled, thoroughly confused, until you opened the envelope. A birth certificate. A passport. ID, the works. You existed here now.

-

“What you writing?” Alfie bent over your shoulder, jumping back when you slammed the book closed. You turned over your shoulder.

“Don’t…sneak up on me like that. I’m putting a bell on you, like a cow. Let me know when you’re skulking about”

“I don’t ‘skulk’. I walk into my own damn kitchen” he tapped his finger against the table to emphasise his point.

You rolled your eyes at his outraged face, turning sideways in the chair so you could speak to him properly without pulling a muscle.

“I heard you come into the kitchen, I meant looming over me. Personal space is a thing, Alfred”

“Stop calling me Alfred. Only Esther gets to call me Alfred” he turned, grabbing a cup as he moved “I don’t like this new friendship you’re developing. Makes me twitchy”

“You don’t like your best girls conspiring against you, Alfred? I’m shocked” you teased.

“Who told you that you were one of my best girls? Eh?”

“Esther did” you slumped back against the wall, smirking at him. He held your gaze for a few moments, hand still grasping about in the pot for a tea bag.

“Esther did” he spat, shaking his head as he looked back to his work “Right. Well. What you writing?”

You hummed at his divert, pushing the book about the surface, and flicking the pages against your thumb.

“I’m taking a break from studying my fake life to write a list of things I’m not allowed to talk about”

“Number one: Alfie. Number two: Alfie's life. Number three-“ he began.

“Stuff from the future, Alfie. Stuff I’m not allowed to drop into conversation lest I be burned as a witch in the town square”

“We don’t do that no more” he shook his head, and you frowned.

“We don’t time travel either, yet here I am” you sighed, crossing your legs over. You stretched your leg out, wiggling your toes. Alfie turned around without noticing and nearly went flying over it, rearing back, and sighing. You giggled as he stepped around and slammed a cup to the table, liquid sloshing onto the surface.

“What aren’t you allowed to talk about then?”

“Well…I’m not allowed to talk about it, Alfie so…” you motioned zipping up your lips. He flung his hand out and you slammed yours down over his on the cover of the book, wrestling between yourselves.

“No! Alfie! Behave” the dog came in at your shouts, jumping up to stand against the edge of the table. He barked when you slapped Alfie’s wrist repeatedly, trying to get him to release it, and surged to start gumming at your thumb.

“Ouch! Pickles!” Alfie lifted the book in triumph as you cradled your thumb, not really bitten but still a little sore. You scowled at the dog as they stepped down to rub their head on your lap, an apology.

“No, traitor!” you scolded softly.

“Good boy” Alfie scuffed at their ears and you stuck your tongue out, glaring up at him through your lashes. He smirked at you, dropping down into the chair opposite with a groan.

“Let’s see what we’ve got here”

You shot him a look, “You’re making me break the Prime Directive, Alfie. I hope you’re best pleased. You might be about to rip a hole in the Space/Time Continuum”

“What the hell are you babbling about?”

The phone ringing in the other room distracted Alfie for a second and you were able to reach out and snatch the book back.

“Ha!”

Alfie shook his head, pushing himself up from the chair. You scratched at Pickles nose as they whined at you.

“I’m not really mad. Yes, I know you have to protect him but what about me? Eh? What about me little Pickles?”

“We’re not calling ‘em Pickles” he turned as he was about to exit the room and pointed to you.

“He’s my little Pickles and I’ll call him what I want. Yes, don’t listen to the big silly man, no. Don’t listen to him Pickles” you turned the dog’s face towards Alfie, fixing him with a look. Alfie flicked his eyes between the both of you before stepping out of the door frame, mumbling to himself.

You opened the book, ripping out the list you’d started. You shuffled Pickles’ head off your lap, dropping the list in the sink and setting the water running over it. Ripping it and scrubbing it away so it was completely pulped made sure it was destroyed and you sighed as the mush thumped against the bottom of the bin.

“You got anything from the other place?” Alfie barged in and grabbed your hand, pulling you through the corridor.

“Alfie, what-?”

“Answer the question!” He shouted, moving into the living room. He dropped your hand, opened a part of the cabinet you didn’t realise was hollow, and pulled out a box. There was a gun inside and you stepped back a little as he loaded it in a rush.

“Sweetheart, answer me!”

“Uhh…yeah. Yes. Only what was in my bag when I got here”

“Anything…odd? Anything that would raise suspicion?”

“My phone. Umm...I already hid the money”

“Where?”

“In the skirting, in the loose- skirting” he barged past you again, into the bedroom. You heard him kicking at the boards, making sure they weren’t going to move. He stepped back out into the door frame.

“In here, come on” he motioned with his free hand, gun still by his side.

“What’s happening?” you breathed, past him.

“Get your bag, get it out. We need to hide it” you retrieved it from the drawer, passing it to him. He wound the cord over and around. He stepped out into the hallway and you fidgeted about, shushing Pickles as he turned himself in circles before you.

“Alfie?” you insisted as he came back into view. He sighed, wiping his jaw. He looked over to the where the front door was, then back to you.

“Listen” he stepped to you, hand gripped around the top of your arm. He lowered his forehead almost to yours “Aaron rang. He got tipped off by one of our men in the police station. They’re coming here”

“For what? What have you done?”

“Not me” he shook his head, holding your eye contact.

“They’re coming for me?” you stuttered out. He nodded, gripping your arm a little tighter as you moved back.

“What’s the gun for?” you continued, voice raised in alarm.

“In case it’s not the police”

You blood turned to ice, and you gulped in air.

“What- what are you talking about? You said the police were coming?”

“Yeah but sometimes…I’m not the only bad man around here, sweetheart, yeah? We all chip in our own little fund. Sometimes one of us…makes an extra donation and we get to take the van for a spin”

“Speak straight fucking English, Alfie. I’m about to be arrested in the wrong fucking century and I’m scared. I don’t have time for riddles”

“I’m having a bit of trouble with an old friend at the moment and…dealing with you and all this, I’ve been stretched a bit thin. Something might have fallen through the cracks, I might not have noticed” he shook his head “anyway- it’s happened before that when we want to get at each other, we send some boys to the police. They let them borrow the van, borrow some uniforms, ‘arrest’ someone. You don’t realise ‘til you take a wrong turn and then you know, you’re getting your face kicked in, so-“

“Alfie!”

“I know the real ones, alright? If they come through the door, we’re fine. You get arrested, I get my lawyer in, take a trip to the bank. It’ll all be sorted by morning, I promise. Hey” he stepped closer, joining your foreheads for real this time.

You were starting to shake, heaving breaths. Alfie trailed his hand up to your neck, fingers melding into the breaks in your spine, thumb tracing over your pulse.

“I’ll get you out. You’re not going to disappear” he insisted, and you let out a little sob.

You swallowed, trying to hold in the tear that was already out and away. You opened your mouth, hesitating.

“I’m scared”

“I know. I know” he lifted his face, pressing lips against your forehead. You bit into your lip, re-opening the healing skin. The clock ticked in the background, Pickles whining at your knee. You turned your head, dropping it to Alfie’s shoulder, and he tucked you in under his jaw. You let your fingers dance over Pickles head. You waited.

-

 

 


	10. A Night, A Day

Echoes. It’s all you’d heard for as long as you could remember. The sun had set and rose again, the echoes chasing you into sleep and dragging you out of it. Now they were joined by the hum that came from near silence – your ears desperately trying to fill the gap, to scan for input.

Echoes. Of shouts. Of doors. Banging. Then silence.

It wasn’t an interview room like you thought it would be. Not even an old timey version of one. It was more like a prison cell. A hollow, concrete block that you’d be shoved in and abandoned. There was a bench, little else.

Your cheek throbbed, squinting as you moved your jaw and pulled the skin. Alfie had roared when the officer had ‘accidently’ swung you round a little too close to the door frame. They’d done it on purpose, tried to rile him up. You heard the slam as they threw him back against the wall, held him there while they marched you out. Heard them laughing about the threats he’d spewed as they’d driven you away from the house on the river. To a cell.

You’d tried to fill the time – not knowing how long it would be until someone walked through the door. Tried to get your story straight. Tried to go over your lines in your head. Turned them over and over and over. Until they were echoes.

There were footsteps now, eyes circling over the damp floor as you tried to discern whether they were coming to you. The clink of the door mechanism showed they were.

“Up, let’s go” It was a new guard. One you didn’t recognise. You were tired and sore and it took a few minutes to get your limbs moving. Throat bobbing. Eyes stinging. Fingers shaking. You followed him out, eyes flicking back and forth as he escorted you into a big office. The windows were huge, almost floor to ceiling. It was bright. Open. Beautiful. It was hard to believe you were in the same building.

You turned your head as though you were a puppy, marvelling at a beam of light that dance through a paperweight on the desk before you. As though it was targeting it. Beaming through the bubbles under the surface, churning and dancing through them. Your cheek pulsed as a smile dragged over your cheek but you didn’t mind. After staring at a concrete slab half the night, it was incredible.

The door shut behind you and the guard was gone, replaced by a man in a suit. He was holding a folder, which is where his eyes were, as he walked past you to the desk.

“Sit down, Miss…” he flicked a page and doubled checked the file for your name. You didn’t sit until he did, lowering yourself slowly as if someone were going to rip the chair out from under you.

“Don’t look so worried” he continued, having not even looked up to check your expression. You swallowed, sat a little straighter. Tried to be brave.

Alfie’s lawyer would be here soon. He promised. He promised last night. Soon.

“You’re a secretary, is that correct?” the stranger questioned.

“I’m – No, ‘Day Manager’ is my official title” he started laughing, shaking his head. He scribbled something on the paper, finally looking up to you. His eyes fell on your cheek and he winced a little. Fuck, you probably looked a sight.

“What’d you have to do to get that promotion?” He settled back in the chair, eyes boring into you. Mask back where it was. Don your own. Be brave.

“A damn lot of paperwork” he hummed in response, smiling at the snark in your tone.

“What does Alfie Solomons call you? Do you have an official title there?” he tapped his finger on the leather rest throughout his questioning “or is there still opportunity for a promotion?”

There was a clock ticking somewhere. You hadn’t noticed until now. Either that or your brain had completely given up on silence and was inventing the striking that repeated. Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.

“You are living together?” he scowled, not put off by your silence. He sat forward, turning a page, “17 Canal Street. Number…5?”

He was trying to unsettle you. He was trying to dive into your mind and start swirling it all around. Targeting you. Churning through the insides. You’d never been arrested before. Not properly. Told off and sent on your way, yes – but never interrogated. You had no frame of reference for this. Quiet was probably the best way to go. Give him nothing for him to twist around and strangle you with.

He flicked the page back down, looking you over.

“Does he like you quiet?”

It took a lot to swallow the retort you wanted to spit at him. He smirked.

“You’d have to ask Mr Solomons” you managed, trying to keep your tone measured.

“I would but the man keeps an army around him and he’s decided I’m not a friend of his. Look here-,” he opened a drawer, lifting an identical file,a fair bit thicker than yours.

He opened it and slid out some papers, pinching one between each hand. He turned and lifted them, placing one either side of his face. They were mugshots – Aaron and Toby’s. They were younger there and Toby had a shiner of his own. You swallowed the beginnings of a smile when you saw the bandage around Aaron’s fingers. When he said Toby had given him his scar maybe he meant Toby’s face had.

You hummed, raising your fingers to scratch at your lip. The man seemed to think you were enjoying his joke on the mugshots and cracked his own smile, dropping the photos to the table. Assuming he’d gotten an in.

“Recognise them?”

“Should I?” you squinted at him, shifting in the chair when the light moved.

“They’re Solomons’…generals, if you will. Follow him around like puppies, if they had convictions for bodily harm”

“Some of them bite” you moved your eyes from the painting above his head that dwarfed him in his seat. He still unsettled you. Even two metres over the desk you felt as though he was right before you, invading your space. This felt personal. “Just to clarify – I’m not especially up to date on my military hierarchies - who is Mr Solomons in this equation…is he…the King? He’ll be ever so pleased if he is”

The man returned a mock of a smile and you weren’t sure whether your nervous sarcasm was swiftly moving you towards another _accident_. You’d been in that cell talking to only yourself and the walls for too long. You needed to vent. Like word vomit. But this was not the time or place.

“You’re new to the city – are you not?” he continued, probing again.

“I wasn’t born here” you agreed, trying to stay as close to the truth as possible.

“No…further north, wasn’t it?”

“There’s a lot more of the country up there, really, so…chances are that’s a good guess if you had to make one”

He nodded at your response, like he was starting to work out your pattern. The only way to give him less to work with would be to shut up but you’d already tried that.

“You are guessing, aren’t you?” you continued, deciding to pry for yourself.

He hummed, sitting back a little and flipping the folder shut. He rose from the chair, stepping slowly around the table. Strolling. Every step clacking against the polished slats. You shifted back in the chair. Shit. Fuck. He dragged a chair over to place next to yours. Dropped into it. Leaned over the rest, right into your personal space. You kept your eyes up to the painting, trying not to respond to the tingle on your arm.

“I’ve been keeping an eye on Mr Solomons for quite a while now. And I’m not sure if you know exactly who and what he is. But I’ll tell you, he’s a piece of work.

And then you showed up. Out of nowhere. Straight-“he moved his arm out to motion in front of you both “into his home. Now I’ve never seen him do that before. Which must make you someone special. Someone I should keep my eye on, also”

You swallowed, flicking your eyes down to the floor. Waiting for his next move.

“And I will. I’m going to be watching you very closely,” you could hear the echoes of steps out in the corridor and hoped to heaven it was someone coming for you, even if only to take you back to the cell.

“If only for your own protection” he added hurriedly, and stood. He buried his hands in his pockets and waited for the door to open.

“Her lawyer’s here” the guard informed him and it was your turn to smirk. The man glared at you as he exited the room. You waited a few seconds. One, two, three clicks, before launching yourself across to the desk. You spun the folder around, trying to commit everything you could to memory. If only you had your phone you could just take pictures of the pages. The folder was surprisingly sparse – most of it notes, conjecture, rather than information. You were right, he was guessing, grasping. He’d have to watch you because he had almost nothing so far. Possible leads were circled, question marks dotted around them.

He did have a foundation. The name was right, the address. That you worked at the club. That you lived with Alfie. You turned to the last few pages, and took a deep breath as you swiped them, folding them up as tight as you could and stuffing it into your garter. Useful for something after all. You ran your hand frantically over the bump in your skirt, trying to smooth the line as much as you could. He hopefully wouldn't realise they were missing until much later, when you were long gone.

Footsteps were nearing again and you were grateful for the old wooden floors as it gave you time to spin the folder back around and make like you’d been pacing about the room when they returned. There was another man with him now, one you didn’t recognise. He nodded to you, walking over. He leaned in close, whispered a ‘Mr Solomons sent me’, and took you by the elbow, escorting you out.

“That’s it?” you stuttered.

“That’s it. They were holding you on a bullshit charge. Once that was overturned” he shrugged as he walked ahead and you paused.

“Then why did it take all night?” you spat.

He turned to you, shrugging off his coat. He passed it to you, waiting as you eyed it with disdain. You were pissed and he was being nice. Somehow that angered you more. Blame the exhaustion and the adrenaline. Alfie was going to get an earful when you got home.

You relented and took the coat, swinging it around yourself.

“They were playing hide-and-seek with you. I had to find out where you were. Then I had to find out where you really were. Then I had to find out where you actually were” he explained and you scoffed, storming out of the station.

You’d spent all night waiting for Alfie to come and get you, wanting to go home. But seeing him leaning up against the car as you descended the steps, something in you switched. He pushed himself forward, onto the curb. You scoffed, surging off to the right, pacing down the street.

“Love, come on!” he shouted after you.

“Fuck off, Alfie!” you lifted your hand to flip him off over your shoulder, keeping your pace. He could meet you at home. You needed to vent.

-

Marching through the rain, trying not to cry seemed to be your new pastime. You’d considered turning back three streets away – you were still wearing the lawyer’s coat, after all. But you’d surged ahead. You weren’t quite sure why you were angry with Alfie. You believed the lawyer when he said they’d been running rings. But your mind had somehow distilled every shitty thing that had happened in the last weeks and decided to focus it on Alfie, full force. There was nowhere else for it to go.

Somehow you managed to get home before they did. They were probably driving around trying to find you instead of making a straight line back. You slammed the door in the lobby, waving a silent ‘sorry’ to one of the old ladies who was peeking out of her doorway. You pocketed the spare keys, not feeling safe to leave them in the hiding place outside any more. Trudging up the stairs felt like scaling a mountain and you abandoned the plan you’d had to march on up to Esther’s and let rip on that stupid son of hers.

You paused in the doorway of the flat, pushing the door with your fingertips so it slid open in front of you. Your eyes blinked at the patterns in the wallpaper opposite, waiting. They’d disturbed the place. Your peace. Another look down the corridor before you pushed forward, making sure to lock the door behind you and flick across the bolt that you’d always thought was overkill before. Now it felt inadequate.

You sat on the floor in the living room for a while, back against the seat. The papers you’d snatched were slowly unfolding themselves on the coffee table. Pushing themselves into the space. Pickles cuddled into your lap, starting whenever a bird flew up from the canal and perched on the window edge. He barked at them, stared them down. You smiled and scratched his ear, thanking him for his guard duty.

Feeding him, making yourself a cup of tea, rinsing off the glasses that were in the sink and the plates that were on the table – all little acts towards re-establishing this place as yours. The keys in the door made you jump, and Pickles went mad. You could hear him scratching up at the glass. You crawled over to the doorway, staying low. There was a shadow moving against the wall, banging the door in the frame. You held your breath.

“Love!” you released the breath at Alfie’s voice, slumping before pushing yourself up. Pickles gave a howl at it and Alfie knocked him finger against the glass before him, his fractured shape shifting through the frosting “Oi, don’t go giving me none of that. Go get your mother to take this bolt off, go on. Go tell her”

You leant against the partition, considering letting him sit on the landing for a while, but if you were honest you wanted him in here. You clicked your fingers, vocalising to try and get Pickles attention. He abandoned his task, bolting down the corridor to jump up at your thighs.

“What do you think, buddy? Shall we let him in?” he licked up at your hand as you swiped over his nose, scratching at his chin. You hummed, lifting his foot so he’d move down to the floor again. Alfie knocked on the window again and you rolled your eyes, padding down the corridor. You stood on the other side of the glass, arms crossed as you watched him press his forehead to the door. He jiggled the keys in the lock again.

“Can you let me in my house please?” another jiggle. He sounded tired and you realised he mustn’t have really slept either, busy sending people out to get you, sorting things out for you. Least you could do was let the man enter his own home. You dragged the bolt across, taking off before he could make his way in.

“Thank you” he emphasised as you walked away, dropping back to your seat on the rug. He made his way down the hallway after you, throwing his coat over the back of the chair to your side. You saw him stand in your periphery, rolling up his sleeves as you stroked Pickles.

“He loves you more than me” he muttered.

“Pickles, tell your dad you love him” he barked in response, making his way over to climb onto Alfie’s knees as he sat in the seat. You watched him scratching at his ears, tears brimming in your eyes. You swallowed heavily, turning your head.

“I stole some of the folder they have on me. Just a couple of pages – there’s some stuff about you on there. I thought it might be useful” you nodded to the pile on the table before you, pulling your knees up to hug them.

“You stole it?” he sounded incredulous.

“He knew you – the guy who questioned me. He had a file with Toby and Aaron in it. I think you’d know him”

“Yeah, my guy told me who it was. Don’t worry about him, love. He’s nobody”

“He said he’d watch me. He said he’d be _watching_ me” you emphasised, terror barely hidden in your voice.

“He’s trying to scare you” he consoled but you shook your head.

“He’d been watching us, Alfie. I know it. It makes sense now. People I’ve seen – I told myself I was being paranoid”

“You are being” he tried to cut your down before you got panicked.

“No, Alfie. I mean it, we need to be careful”

“I’ll keep us safe” he assured.

You hummed, dropping your chin to your knees.

“You alright?” Alfie asked, voice apprehensive.

“No”

He sighed, pushing Pickles’ head away lightly so he could stand and walk over to you. He crouched in front of you, running his hand over your hair.

“Did-“you lifted your head and he paused, eyes hollowing as he clocked your cheek properly for the first time. His fingers tightened around the side of your neck and you swallowed. He fell to his knees as you rolled your eyes up, a tear breaking free. He brought his hand up to pinch at your chin lightly, turning your head ever so slightly. You lifted yours to wrap around his, moving his hand away from your face as you pulled yourself up to sit on the sofa.

“It’s alright”

“That’s not fucking alright – have you seen your damn face?” he growled.

“No…a little bit. In a window,” you shook your head, wiping away a tear as it stung your cheekbone “is it bad?”

“It looks like they tried to cave your fucking cheek in” he growled, pushing forward onto his knees as he tried to turn your face again. You scoffed and rose, pushing his arm away.

“Don’t be so dramatic” you spat, moving your way through the flat to the bathroom.

“They do that in there?” he shouted after you. You batted the door, lifting your hair back as you turned to face the mirror.

“No, it was the door on the way out - Shit” you whispered. He was right. You looked a state. A thick stripe across your bone, it had actually split a little at one point, or scuffed enough to open up some skin. The bruising pooled around it, trying to creep its way up to your eye. You grimaced, prodding at it. You hissed, freezing as you waited for the roll of pain to pass.

Alfie came crashing in, slamming the cabinet open to grab a box.

“Alfie” you whispered, eyes still shut. You turned to him as he carried on crashing about.

“I’m gonna split him fucking open-” he flipped the box open, a first aid kit inside.

“Alfie”

“Hang him with his own innards” he about spilled the contents out on the side, picking out what he needed as he turned back to you.

“Alfie”

“Sit down,” he nodded to the edge of the bath and you went with it “I’m gonna shove a railing through his eye socket, leave him flapping like a flag”

“Alfie!” you insisted. He lifted his eyes from where he was uncapping a bottle of anti-septic, meeting yours “Stop, please! I’m tired and I’m scared and I don’t want to hear about intestines and decapitation and-“

“I never said nothing about decapitation. Although it’s not a bad idea” he pointed the cloth he was coating at you and you tilted your head.

“Alfie!” he slammed the bottle down on the sink back, tilting your chin as he dotted at it with a cloth. You grimaced, pushing down onto the edge of the bath.

“They do anything to you in there?” he tried, voice much more controlled.

“No. They just…tried to scare me” he hummed in response, dabbing carefully at your skin. He cleaned it up, crouching so he could make sure the plaster was on properly. He ran his thumb over the cover, fingers swiping your hair back.

“I’m gonna keep us safe” he repeated and you nodded, eyes closed again.

“Love, look at me”

It took you a few seconds to flutter your lashes open, turning your eyes to him.

“I’m gonna keep us safe” he assured.

-

You told Alfie you wanted a bath, wanted to wash away last night, and he left you for a while. You soaked and soaked, scrubbed and scrubbed. And cried.

Your fingers gripped around the edge of the bath as a knock came at the door.

“Toby and Aaron are here” the water sloshed as you sat up, eyes fixed to the door “they’re going to sleep here for a few days, keep an eyes out – if that’s alright with you?”

“Yeah” you cleared your throat, your voice having broken halfway through the word and making it almost unintelligible “Yeah, I’d like that”

“Alright. You alright?”

You scrunched your eyes shut, swallowing away your tears.

“Yeah – I’m alright”

The tears were evident in your voice and you looked away, even though you were alone in the hazy room.

“Love?” you heard the muffled jangle as he lifted his arm to lean against the frame, lifting your knee to rest your forehead against it. Your reflection in the water was dancing, shadowed slightly by your bent head.

“Alright,” the door creaked and you threw your head up, thinking he was coming in for a second. A shadow crept under the door and you realised he was sitting on the other side, back braced against the wood.

“I’m gonna sit here, alright? I’m right out here. Me and Pickles”

Your smile broke through your sob, nodding to yourself.

“Pickles, tell your mother you love her” Alfie instructed and a bark came through the door.

You laughed to yourself, wincing as the skin on your cheek pulled.

“I love you too” you croaked out, pausing as Alfie’s shadow stilled under the door. You blinked it away, settling back into the water.

-

 

 


	11. Twins

Aaron and Toby were snoring their heads off, braying one after another. As if they were competing, even in their sleep. It made you smile. Aaron had ‘won’ the sofa and so Toby was strewn out on the floor beside his brother, twitching every so often.

“Don’t know how they didn’t get us killed a thousand times over. Like a fucking beacon, the pair of them. They put us up one end by ourselves one time, just me and them. Meant to swap out guarding and sleeping between us. I nearly shot ‘em myself to shut ‘em up. Can believe I never let that happen again”

You turned your head to where Alfie was hovering behind you. He leaned against the doorframe and you leaned back a little into him, pulling together like magnets. Your arms were still crossed over your chest, the fingers on one hand toying with the bitten skin at your lip.

“Where you been that they-wait, the war?” you whispered to him and he bounced his brows as he nodded, looking back over to the boys.

“You met there?” you questioned again and he hummed a response, adjusting his shoulder on the frame. He didn’t elaborate so you turned your head back to them. He probably didn’t want to talk about it.

“Sorry” you scuttled to backtrack on your words.

“No, it’s fine. I’m not upset about it darlin’. Don’t worry yourself” he nudged your back.

“I just brought it up without thinking” you continued your apology, prompting him to huff behind you.

“It’s not something I get upset about” he repeated and you shuffled a little, not quite jumping when a shock of lightening appeared at the window. It was pouring. Again. You liked it, the near constant rain. It made it feel like everything was being washed away. You and your boys, all of them, here in the lovely flat on the river. A whole world contained.

“It’s alright to” you reminded him, still staring out into the night. You saw him turn his head to you in the reflection, mirroring the action so you were looking at each other.

“What’s that look?” you questioned, moving your hand away from your face as you looked up at him.

“You”

“What about ‘me’?” your eyebrows knit together.

“Looking after me. It’s my job to look after you” he motioned between the two of you as he spoke and you huffed.

“It’s not your job to look after me!” a protest fell from your lips, and his cheek twitched.

“Yes, it is. And you think it too, which is why you got pissed off at me” he replied, matter of fact.

You sighed and turned your head to the boys before moving away from the archway, across to the bedroom. You knocked the door away, flopping to the end of the bed. Alfie followed after you, perching on the chest of drawers across from you.

“I wasn’t…I was tired and I was scared and I was feeling everything at once” he gave you a look that showed his disbelief. His ‘no bullshit’ look.

“Fine, I was sort of pissed off at you, yes. But it wasn’t because you didn’t look after me. I didn’t think I’d be there all night and it scared me even more when I realised that maybe you weren’t as- I don’t even know what the word I’m looking for is. I had the impression you could just walk in and fix things, alright? It’s what you did the first time. It’s what you’ve been doing this whole time”

The silence dragged between you both and you sat back against your hands, fingers sinking into the quilt.

“Maybe I think it’s your job to look after me” you whispered, unsettled by the realisation.

He was right. Alfie had been your anchor this whole time. You had to remind yourself it had been what? A month or so? How the hell were you in this deep already? The knowledge that this might all be pre-ordained came to mind. That you knew of the inevitable and so you were just settling in for the ride. It was horrifying and comforting equally.

The documents you'd seen in the cases flashed in your mind. You were stuck on track to marry a gangster from the 1920’s. And by all accounts, you were going to have a great life. Maybe. For a while, at least. They hadn’t found an arrest record and an obituary at the club and so there was some hope that this all turned out okay.

“I told you that five minutes ago” Alfie piped up, unwrapping one arm to motion to you “you need to listen more”

You tilted your head, sticking him with a glare that he smirked off. He pushed himself up from the chest, working to kneel before you. You rolled your body back up so you were face to face with him, eyes moving from one of his to the other.

“First time I met the boys, they were kicking six shades of shit out of each other” he whispered to you and you spluttered a laugh, hand thrown up to tuck it back it. He smiled, hands moving to the bed on either side of you as he got more comfortable on the floor.

“Right there in the trench” he motioned punching “rolling round the floor, best they could, like. They were only about this wide. Just ‘bout enough to get away with it. Everyone was, you know, they had bigger things to worry about than two teenagers having at each other. Most of them probably thought they were bloody hallucinating. You can have a lot of fun playing pranks with twins. Well, when there’s nowt better to do everything gets a bit funnier. Not like we could pop down the pictures. But anyway, I was piss wet through, more mud on me than the ground. Trying to have a nap. Couldn’t be arsed with it. Walked right up, grabbed the both of them by the back of the collar”

He pulled his fists up to either side of him, looking down as though they were right before him.

“And I said, what I said right was ‘you two knock it off or I will make your faces a permanent part of that trench wall right there” he flicked his eyes up, pointing ahead. You rolled your lips together, waiting for the rest of the story.

“And Toby, he turns to me. I’ve got him by the scruff of the neck. He was a baby. First time I seen his face, I thought, ‘they’re sending us babies now’” he paused, his eyes dimming just a little “he turns to me as best he could while I still had hold of ‘im and said ‘Well, it’s nice you’re thinking of the morale of the men, mister. But I don’t think an art gallery is going to do much for the property prices around here’”

He sniffed and dropped his hands. You spluttered another laugh and he joined you.

“Yeah. Aaron got free and hit him again. Lot of good I did” he added, smiling up at you. You smiled back, flicking your eyes down to your lap. You toyed with the edge of the dressing gown you were wearing, twirling a loose thread.

“You looked after them. You got them home. You did good”

“We looked after each other.” He turned his head over his shoulder, towards the ajar door to holler out into the shadows, “When we weren’t snoring louder than the fucking bombs”

You shushed his ever raising voice, leaning to grab his neck and pull him back to you. He laughed up at you as you flicked your eyes from the door to him. He was trailing his eyes over your face when you looked back.

“Tell me about it. Tell me more stories” you whispered.

“You don’t want to sleep?” he frowned and you shook your head.

“Not yet. Come on” you moved up onto your knees, took his hands, and began to move backwards on the bed “tell me more stories”

He followed you up, eyes wary as you sat back against the headboard. He flicked his eyes to the bed beside you.

“You sure?”

“I don’t want to be alone yet. I don’t think I can be alone yet. I thought I wanted that but when I’m alone…I’m sure” you nodded, swallowing away the fear that began to creep up your throat. Every time you thought of the cell, your chest began to bubble.

He waited another moment, waited for you to change your mind. When you didn’t he nodded to himself, dropping beside you. He lifted his arm, tucking it around the back of your head and you moved to snuggle into him, head rolling onto his chest. It was odd, sitting on top of the covers but still so close. Half in, half out kind of thing.

Alfie whistled and the sound of Pickles’ paws on the floorboards announced his arrival before you saw his head pop up over the edge of the bed. He jumped up and settled himself on Alfie’s lap, who started scratching at his ears. He cleared his throat, adjusting his neck where it met the headboard.

“Right, you want the one about us doing a puppet show over the top for the Germans or the one about one-armed Billy mixing up crates and accidently getting half the trench bladdered first?”

You furrowed your brow, tilting your head up to him. He wasn’t kidding. Those were both real stories. You didn’t have to worry about sleeping tonight.

 

 


	12. Doubt

Waking up and realising you were spooning a Dalmatian rather than a 1920’s gangster prompted all sorts of questions in your mind. Mainly, how the fuck did I get here? Followed quickly by, why am I so okay with this situation?

The trend of the men in the household snoring was one that Pickles continued, although you were happy to find that both he and his father were more subtle about it. Alfie had dropped off sometime after midnight, hand slowing and then stilling where it had been tracing through your hair.

It had taken you longer. Drifting in and out, starting when there was a bird squawk outside, or the chatter of the bargemen as they passed under the window. Every little sound was amplified and even burying yourself deep into Alfie’s side hadn’t quite settled you. Though it definitely helped. The low rumble of his breaths, the warmth of his body, the low hum as he dragged you just a fraction closer under the quilts you were buried in.

Reaching over him to check the gun was still tucked into the drawer helped even more. The thought of actually using it was still a mile away for you, but the option was comforting. Maybe it was time to assimilate a little more and ask Alfie for a lesson or two. Although, maybe not Alfie. Maybe Aaron. Not Toby. You had a feeling Toby was a sight with a gun in hand. Regardless of the teacher, if you were going to be a more permanent member of the family, you needed to learn some things.

The thought came back to you as you awoke to a semi-empty bed, quilt tucked around you both. You flopped an arm over to check the pillow beside you and realised it was stone cold in the chilly morning air. Alfie must have been up a while. How that man survived on so little sleep boggled your mind. At least he hadn’t woken you as he’d risen and so maybe sharing a bed could work after all. Not that that was going to happen. Not soon.

“Lord alive, it’s like we’re fucking teenagers” you whispered into the air above you, watching the path of your breath swirl around the dust in the light beams.

Pickles whined as you sat up and you tried to tuck the quilts back down around them but they were already awake. They bounced off the side of the bed after you and followed you to the door. It had been left ajar, probably so the click wouldn’t wake you, and so they bounded off down the corridor towards the chatter at the end of the hall. You logged the voices as you turned towards the bathroom, hand stilling over the handle as you caught the conversation.

“-saying that we need to-“Aaron’s voice stalled when there was the clatter of a spoon being thrown into the sink.

“What are you saying?” Alfie questioned, tone clipped. You paused, switching your weight slowly to avoid making noise on the loose floorboard joint at the corner of the doorway.

There was a pause as he prepared his response and you wondered what they were about to argue about.

“We know nothing about her and you’re letting yourself get a little too cosy. I think that’s a mistake, boss” he kept his tone measured but it sounded more like he was holding back.

You knew Aaron hadn’t trusted you at first and had been keeping you at arm’s length since. But you thought you’d made progress. That the last few weeks, the last few days especially, had changed his estimation of you.

“You think it’s a mistake?” Alfie repeated.

“I do”

“Good job I didn’t fucking ask then, in’t it?” Alfie spat, and you heard more clattering about.

“Boss-“

“Oh, shove it. Putting a ‘boss’ before it don’t make it any more respectful. Just makes you sound like a child trying not to get told off”

“Fine then. Let me say this – because you don’t have me around to kiss your arse. You have me around because I do my job and I do it well, and part of that is calling you out on your shit. She’s a liability.

She’s a stranger and I don’t trust her. And I don’t understand why you do. She’s got some kind of hold over you that I don’t understand and I don’t like it” Aaron insisted.

“There’s no need to get jealous, sweetheart” Alfie joked but you could hear the anger still in his tone, rolling through each word.

“Alfie. I love you as much as I do my brother. And I have had and will have your back from the moment we met until the moment we put each other into the ground. Which is why I’m saying this. You need to wake up and see this clearly”

“I’ve got my eyes wide open, lad. Don’t you worry about that”

“It’s been what – a month and a half? She’s working in your office. She’s living in your house. She’s sleeping in your bed. She’s sleeping in your fucking bed. ” Aaron listed off, emphasising each point as though he was trying a case “How can you not realise that’s too much? How can you not see-“

“You think she’s a plant?” Alfie made it clear that he wasn’t entertaining the theory

“I think we need to find out”

“She never asked for nothing. I had to give it all. She never asked for nothing” Alfie argued, almost sounding as if he was trying to convince himself as much as Aaron.

“I bet she didn’t fight you much for it though, did she?”

There was another break and you leant against the doorframe, head resting on the painted wood. The reality of your loneliness started to creep up your spine again, a reminder that everything you had in this world was between these walls. It was fragile. It was frightening.

Both their voices were dipped, resigned. You suddenly became breathless again. What if Alfie started to doubt you? What if he started to push you out?

“No. There’s stuff you don’t know. If you knew, you’d understand” Alfie came back on side but you couldn’t settle, the thought spinning up your nerves.

“Then tell me. Come on, Alfie. When did we ever keep secrets from each other? You always said I should never go into anything without knowing twice as much as I needed to, why you holding back now?”

The front door opened and you threw yourself into the bathroom, swinging the door so you were hidden behind it. You held it just out of the frame, so it looked shut without making a sound, and waited with your breath held. It was Toby’s voice that broke through the tense silence.

“Only me! They didn’t have any at the usual so I had to go-what’s happening?”

“Your brother’s voicing his concern about our guest” Alfie explained.

“Oh. Yeah”

“Yeah” Alfie returned and you lifted your hand from the door to wipe away the tear threatening the edge of your eye.

“Hey boy” Toby perked up and you assumed he was bent over Pickles, trying to avoid the conflict. You slipped the door into the lock when the clash of cupboards started up again, dropping to the side of the tub to gather yourself.

You’d let yourself get too comfortable here. Alfie was wrong, you should have been listening to your doubts this whole time. You should have been looking out for yourself. It wasn’t his job to look out for you all the time. He was here to guide you, yes, but not guard you.

It was time to start making some real plans. Time to carve out a space of your own here. Time to stop putting off all the thoughts you’d been putting on a list to deal with another time.

You lifted yourself from your seat, swinging open the door and striding down to the kitchen. The men looked between themselves as you entered, Aaron almost guilty in his expression. You held his gaze for just a second, before turning to Alfie.

You took a deep breathe, and then a jump: “It’s time. They need to know. We need to tell them”

 


	13. Decisions

The boys sat quietly for a long time after you finished the rambling story you’d delivered. Trying to fit so many confusing things into a coherent timeline was difficult. Especially when you didn’t fully understand it yourself. Toby was frowning, staring out the window. Aaron was turning a spoon up and over, up and over.

Alfie would flip his eyes up to you every so often, checking you were alright. He was leaning against the wall opposite, with one arm crossed over his chest, the other resting on it by his elbow. He was tracing his thumb over his beard, bent slightly over himself to balance.

Up and over. Up and over.

Eyes up. Eyes down.

Up and over. Up and over.

Eyes up. Eyes down.

“Someone say something, please. Good or bad, I don’t care” you broke through the silence, stepping away from leaning on the counter.

“The future?” Toby questioned and you sighed.

“The future” you confirmed. You didn’t know how this was going to go but it definitely wasn’t going well.

Aaron let go of the spoon as it was balancing on its curve, letting it crash to the table top. Pickles jumped up from where he was tucked under the windowsill, investigating the ruckus. Aaron rose from the chair, flicking his jacket off the back as he moved passed you.

“Aaron” Alfie warned, unmoving. You stepped aside, letting him leave. Toby turned to watch his brother leave, brow still furrowed. He flicked his eyes to you, raising from his own seat. He sighed, tucking his hands into the pockets of his trousers, rocking a little in place.

“Well…I was actually expecting worse”

“Wait, you believe me?” you questioned and he scoffed a laugh.

“I don’t disbelieve you. Let’s hold off on anything more concrete for now, eh? Besides, it explains a lot” he added and you scowled.

“What does it explain?”

“Your complete lack of understanding of current events, for a start. I thought maybe you’d been locked up or something but…”

You looked over to Alfie as he unfolded himself, stepping towards the doorway.

“Let him go” Toby insisted after him, moving to a serious state you rarely saw from him. Toby was all nervous energy. Like static, bouncing and dancing, electrifying its environment. Aaron was more solid, less fluctuating. He took a place as he found it - left it how he did too.

“I need to talk to him” Alfie explained but Toby shook his head.

“You need to give him time”

You fidgeted, preparing.

“We need to talk about what happened yesterday. We need to talk about what’s happening today. I’m sorry, but I don’t think any of us have had the privilege of time since this all started and I don’t think now is the best time to start wasting it” you added, trying to stick to your new plan while you still had the courage.

Toby shuffled in place, freeing one hand to scratch at Pickles sniffing nose.

“How are you?” he asked, looking up to meet your eye. The question froze you up, shifting your weight as you mulled over the question.

“Has anyone asked you that?” he continued and you saw Alfie push his shoulder into the doorway, probably offended at the accusation that he hadn’t been looking after you properly.

“If I’m honest, I don’t actually know” you breathed out, half a laugh at the end. It soured in your mouth, rolling your tongue around the inside of your teeth.

“This had to melt your mind, huh?” he laughed, leaning back to perch on the edge of the windowsill.

“You have no idea. Alfie’s kept me busy. Helps, you know? Not thinking about it” he nodded a response, solemn.

“Oh yeah, he’s good at that” he looked up to Alfie, then moved to you “When bullets are flying, you’re not exactly stopping to sort through things frame by frame, huh?”

“Yeah can’t say I have much time to contemplate my place in the universe when I’m worrying about disappearing into the ether or getting locked up. Time travel, gangsters, and vendettas. It’s all very interesting” you joked, managing a smile “Now please stop being serious and go back to being the guy I know. You’re creeping me out more than the other stuff is”

He smirked and you waited for whatever was coming.

“Nice jammies, by the way. You sleep well last night you two?” he made sure to look over to Alfie at the end and you rolled your eyes.

“There’s my boy. Knew you still had it in you” you fired back, making as if you were going to exit the room, before turning back at the last second “Tobias Valentine the second”

As his face fell, Alfie’s lit up, as though it had passed between them. You winked to Alfie on the way out, waving off Toby’s protestations as you went. One out of two wasn’t bad, and you had to work on building Aaron’s trust no matter what.

“It’s ‘ _Valentin’_ , time lady. _Valentin_. It means ‘strength’!” he followed you out of the kitchen, shouting down the corridor at you, before turning back to Alfie “Did you tell her that?”

“It’s on your arrest record, mate. Tough luck” he slapped a hand to his shoulder as he followed you down to the bedroom.

Toby sighed, watching the two of you disappear behind the door. He turned his head, catching sight of Pickles sat square in the middle of the kitchen.

“She named you Pickles for goodness sake” he frowned at the dog’s whine, stepping into the now empty room to scratch at their ears again.

-

You flopped down onto the bed, pulling your legs up to cross before you. Alfie shut the door softly, moving to drop beside you.

“You alright?”

“I think”

“That was brave” he assured, lifting an arm up and over your head to wrap around you. You dropped your head to his shoulder, watching your reflection in the mirror on top of the dresser. Alfie was resting his chin on your forehead, looking over you out the window.

“Was it the right thing to do? I heard Aaron and I just…couldn’t keep the secret anymore. With everything that’s happening, we need them, and I couldn’t keep lying to them while asking them to put themselves at risk for me”

“It was the right thing to do” he licked his lips, then amended his answer “I think”

You laughed, turning so your forehead was flush with his shoulder, tucked into him.

“The great Alfred Solomons, floored by questions of morality”

“What, we giving everyone their proper names now? Don’t go making a habit, love. Besides, you know how I feel now. Weighing everything up, wondering if you’re doing the best for everyone or just doing what needs to be done to get you through to make another decision tomorrow”

You untucked your head, lifting to meet his eyes. He still looked tired, and you wondered if he’d woken up as soon as you’d fallen asleep. You started to think ‘when all this is over…’ before remembering it had only just started. The thought alone was exhausting.

“You do a good job. I think” he smiled to you and you continued “I don’t really know. I mean, I’ve never seen you actually working properly but now I think of it…from what you’ve demonstrated you’re really fucking dodgy”

He laughed, nodding in agreement.

“Pretty spot on description”

“I mean, you threatened to shoot me within an hour of meeting me”

“Only if you kept misbehaving” he amended.

“And you faked me a number of documents at short notice, with little effort and thought to the consequence or legality” your eyes started to drift away as another point came to mind.

“Well-“

“And you broke me out of jail yesterday, which-”

“Legally. I sent a lawyer to get- how is that ‘breaking you out of jail’?” he tripped over himself mid-sentence, worked up at the allegation.

“I was thankful for it!” you assured and he scowled down at you.

“Damn right, you better be, missus”

“Oh, shut up and piss off. I need to get dressed” you leant forward to dot a kiss at his cheek, lifting yourself from the bed quickly when you realised what you’d done on instinct. You moved straight to the dresser, opening the drawer that had been cleared of Alfie’s things and was now yours.

You kept your head down, digging through the stacks of cloth to find something decent to wear. You felt him move behind you, hovering a short distance away. A safe distance.

“You’re not going to work”

You stalled, not turning your head to him, but flicking up to see him in the mirror.

“Well, no, I’m not going to be at my desk today. But we need to have a meeting with the boys, and we need to get a plan sorted. That police guy was sniffing around the lot of you and we need to work out-“

“We will do, but I think it’s best if you go to the big house until we sort what’s happening” he reasoned and you turned to him for real.

“The big house?” you questioned, gripping your dress in hand “You’re hiding me away?”

He clicked his tongue, looking away and back. He was exasperated before you’d even begun to argue your case.

“I’m not hiding you away, I’m making sure you’re somewhere safe. This place isn’t exactly a fortress is it? I need you somewhere safe until we get Kaye out of the way and then- “

“You wouldn’t let Esther live here if it wasn’t safe” you argued.

“Oh trust me, I’ve tried to move her many a time” he pointed to you “she makes her own decisions and everyone else can make theirs. Bless ‘em if they try to get at her up there”

“She makes her decisions and I make mine. That whole thing this morning-“you lifted your arm to point blindly in the direction of the door, dress swaying in your grip “was about me being brave and making decisions now. Not going with the flow of whatever came before me. Assessing a situation, and making a decision.

I got arrested yesterday. I got tagged with you and yours. They’re coming after me as they’re coming after you. They see me as part of this organisation now. So I’m part of this organisation now. I’m-“

You took a breath, swallowed, and forged ahead.

“I’m part of this family now, Alfie. I need to part of decisions. I need to have a hand in what happens. It involves me, and I’m not a thing to be shied away and hidden until its safe. I don’t need you to protect me like that. I need you to trust me and…teach me. I need you to teach me how to survive here”

He paced away a little, looping around to lean over the footboard. His hands wrapped around the piping, eyes to the quilt as he thought.

“I’m not hiding you away. But, I take your point. You’re in this now, same as the rest of us. This changes things. Which is why-“he looked up to you “I need to be working from a place of safety, instead of worrying about you being exposed, right? I can’t be focusing on what I need to be doing if I’m constantly looking to see where you are”

You sighed, and dropped back against the dresser.

“Point taken” you agreed “You come to the big house with me”

His face quirked as he looked up at you in mild disgust.

“We all go to the big house, sweet. Like I’d let you lap up the luxury all on your lonesome. It’s my damn house”

You rolled your eyes, smiling lightly at him.

“I like this place” you noted.

“Yeah, it’s lovely. What else?” he asked, catching you out.

“What else what?”

“Well, you sounded like you had a plan. You went off there like you were about to break out a speech” he replied.

“I didn’t…I want you to teach me about the…you know” you swung your hand in front of you, scrunched dress flapping around “the lay of the land. Who we like, who we don’t. Who to work with, who not to trust”

He stood straight, crossing his arms again.

“I not been giving you enough homework?” he joked but you ignored him.

“I want you to teach me to shoot. Or, find someone to teach me to shoot. Maybe not you”

He tilted his head and you nodded to him.

“Sweetheart-“

“I need to know. You keep a gun in the drawer by the bed, Alfie. I need to know” you threw the dress onto the bed before it was completely crumpled beyond hope “what happens if the shit hits the roof and you’re not there? I need to know”

He mulled it over for a few moments, not looking entirely sure on his decision when he made it.

“Right. I’m make sure to produce a well-rounded curriculum, then”

“Alfie, be serious”

“It’s all I ever am. Anymore demands?” he sighed, stepping to the entry and putting his hand on the doorknob.

“Whose ‘Kaye’?” you went back to what he’d said before, confused.

“Kaye. Detective Kaye. The guy who had you arrested” he looked more confused than you did.

“Oh”

“You didn’t get his name?” he questioned, sounding disappointed.

“No! I was busy…being…intimidated”

“We’re all…we’ve all got a lot on, love. You still- right, you’re right. I need to teach you some stuff. I’ll add it to the list” he opened the door, stepping out.

“And pack a bag!” he shouted a few moments later and you dropped your head back. _Here we go._

 

 


	14. The Big House and The Bucket

“Holy fuck” you whispered, leaning forward to see through the rain spattered glass. The house had appeared out of nowhere, it seemed, hidden by the high trees from the road. You hadn’t even seen the gate until you were through it. The driver had turned in and there it was. You assumed that was entirely on purpose.

Alfie cleared his throat next to you, waiting with the open door in hand.

“Yeah, it’s alright, ain’t it?” he replied, fixing his hat to hide his face from the last sputters of rain.

You stepped out and tried not to go flying on the slick stone beneath your heels. That vintage film star grace that tinged your understanding of this age unfortunately wasn’t something you could borrow from Esther’s cupboards. Alfie hovered his hand around you elbow just in case you tipped. He slammed the door after you and sniffed, letting you admire the view.

“What the fuck, Alfie?” you spat after a few moments, eyes trailing over the windows in succession.

“Yeah” He agreed in a proud voice, his own eyes trailing over the building.

“You live here?”

“Sometimes”

“Some…times. Sorry, did I miss-are you an Earl of somewhere?”

He chuckled, bringing his hand back up to the small of your back this time, leading you towards the building.

“You own this?” you questioned and he turned his head to you, almost offended.

“Yes, I own it. Why d’ya sound so surprised?”

“No, I just-“

He bristled, “You’ve seen my accounts!”

“Yeah, but…”

“But what?”

“I still don’t really know what money means here” you admitted.

He stalled, staring down at you.

“You don’t know what money means?” he frowned.

“No. Not in terms of-“

“I have you…you’re in charge of the club accounts, what are you-?”

“No, I know what it means! I just…I’m not sure what it…I don’t even know what this would cost in _my_ money! Inflation! Conversion! You know?”

He stared you down for a few moments with a look that was becoming tiringly familiar, before turning and continuing up the driveway.

“I know what money means, Alfie!” you shouted after him, trying to keep up on the wet ground.

-

“Fucking hell” you whispered, suddenly feeling very aware of whether or not you were dripping onto the (what was probably very expensive) rug. You pulled the skirt of your coat a little closer, peered down to your shoes.

A continuous roar, accompanied by thundering steps, came towards you down the hallway and you threw your head up just in time to see Alfie tackling the advancing child to the floor. The little girl screeched in laughter, slapping out at the nearest shoulder as he rose, lifting and spinning her.

“Right, little miss. You’re going in the bin” he winked to you as he trundled past with her towards the door. You scowled, bent back and swerved around her flailing arms as he passed. Her hair was flipped over her face as she went but you could hear the giggles from under the curls.

“Nooooo!” she screeched through the laughs, the sounds jumping as Alfie’s steps bounced her on his shoulder. Your smile fell a little as a thought hit you. He was a dad. Why the fuck hadn’t he told you he was a dad.

You broke out of your realisation as she smacked her little hands down on his back and he groaned, dropping her to the floor as he doubled over.

“Oh, fu-” he whispered before biting into his lip to silence himself, leaning against the entryway.

“Uncle Alfie?” the little girl asked, flipping her tangled hair away from her face. Her eyes were wide as she looked him over, toeing a little closer apprehensively. Alfie remained leaning against the wooden pillar, face bent and hidden. The girl reached out slowly but Alfie snapped to grab the hand and pull her in, turning her upside down in a moment.

You exhaled, rolling your eyes as you realised the fake, and leaned against the closest wall.

“Got ya! You need to stop being so damn soft, it’ll get you in trouble one of these days” Alfie told her, slowly turning her and putting her down carefully.

“But charging into people won’t?” you asked, mostly ignored by the both of them.

He combed her hair back with his fingers as she looked up at him with a flat look you’d seen before but couldn’t quite place. Not Alfie’s. Wait, she’d said-

“Uncle Alfie, huh?” you asked and the pair turned to you. Your arms crossed over your stomach, leaning back against the wall. The girl looked you over, smiling up at Alfie with a knowing look.

“Is she your girlfriend?” she teased and you rolled your lips into your teeth, eyes flicking up to Alfie. He stared down at her, face flat, before he flicked her square in the forehead.

“Mind your own business, Bucket”

“Bucket?” you mouthed to him with a frown as he passed but again, you were mostly ignored.

“It’s rude not to introduce people!” the girl shouted after him and he waved a hand over his shoulder. The way he brought it down to run the back over his spine made you think maybe she had done a slight bit of damage. Regardless, you liked her style.

“What is your name?” she asked and you turned to her. She was sat on the stairway now, peering through the bannister at you. Inquisitive eyes that framed a freckled scar across her nose. Ruffled hair that at some point had tried to be constrained in the ribbon that was now trailing loosely down by her ear. She didn’t look much like Alfie, you reasoned. You took a breath, strangely comforted, and stepped towards her a little. You let your arms loose as you crouched beside the bannister, grasping the rung either side of the ones she did, and gave her your name.

“And what’s your name?”

“Harriet” she replied.

“Harriet. Lovely” she squidged her lips to the side, not quite a smile, something a little sadder.

“My dad picked it. Alfie calls me Bucket sometimes” she explained.

You nodded slowly, “I noticed that”

She smiled for real this time and you joined her. In spite of the dramatic entrance she seemed quite quiet, reserved. Perhaps it was the disappearance of Alfie that had left you both alone together in the vast stairway.

“You said Alfie was your uncle?”

“I didn’t” she shook her head and the ribbon danced.

“You called him Uncle Alfie” you insisted and she tilted her head, the start of a shrug.

“That’s not saying he’s my uncle. He called me a Bucket, it don’t make me one”

“Oh God, you really are related” you whispered to yourself and she giggled again, your smile pulling back.

“I didn’t know Alfie had siblings” you continued, reaching through the rungs to tug the ribbon free of its last tenuous hold round almost a single strand of hair. You passed it to her and she took it from you, gripping it between her teeth as she pulled her hair back between her hands.

“Ye aske lotto kestuns” she mumbled out before freeing the ribbon and re-wrapping it around the bun she’d formed.

“Don’t she just?” Alfie said from behind you and you jumped. He’d come out of an archway right behind you, and you turned to look down the hallway where he’d originally left. Oh, you hoped this place wasn’t a maze. It didn’t look that big inside, well, big yes. Space wise. But not like there were a ton of rooms. Apparently they all looped into one another though.

Alfie came to lean against the bannister between the two of you and you looked up. He rested his arms over the polished wood, looking behind you to the entrance.

He clicked his tongue, before speaking. “It is pissing it down again”

“Alfie!” you scolded and Harriet laughed again, kicking her legs out from under her to rest against the steps.

He turned to you as you stood.“What?”

You nodded your head towards where Harriet sat and he sighed.

“Oh, she’s heard worse”

“A lot worse” She added.

“That’s no reason to do it again” you explained and they looked between each other with the shared ghost of a smirk, “Stop it! The both of you!”

“Where’s Rosie?” Alfie asked down to Harriet and you sighed.

“Changing the sheets” the girl flicked her arms up to the ceiling.

“Whose Rosie?” you sidled into Alfie a little, whispering to him.

“My housekeeper. There’s Rosie – she’s the boss lady. And then there’s her daughter Rachel - that’s her mum” he nodded to Harriet “You’ll get to know them quick enough, don’t worry”

It took you a moment to unravel the connections.

“Wait, you have a housekeeper?”

“Yeah” he nodded as if it was nothing, sniffing as he tucked his hands into his pockets.

“Ok” you agreed, resigned to the fact that this was happening. You set about shimmying off your damp coat “So, are you Harriet Solomons, or…?”

“Nope” the girl shook her head, the curls wriggling dangerously in their confines once more.

“She’s Harriet Kolski” Alfie added, taking your coat off you and draping it over the wood to dry “But her name’s Bucket”

Harriet exhaled from the stairway, not quite a sigh, and pushed herself up. She was still shorter than him, even four steps up.

“If I’m a bucket, you’re a brush!” she said with conviction, leaning into the bannister. You liked this girl; you admired her a little more every time she took Alfie on. He leant into the bannister too, hands gripped either side of hers like yours had been before.

“That doesn’t even work! It’d be Brash and that don’t make no sense” he argued back with all the grace of a toddler.

“What’s happening here?” you questioned, leaning between the both of them. They turned to you and you raised your eyebrows, eyes flicking between the both as you searched for an explanation.

Harriet leaned in and whispered conspiratorially “Abrasha”, which answered nothing for you.

“It’s my middle name, alright? There, you’ve broke the bubble. Ruined the secret. Taken the mystery out of the-“

“Ahhh! ‘If I’m a bucket, you’re a’-brasha, brush…no, that’s good, actually. I like it, Harriet” you nodded with a sly smile to the girl.

She smiled up at you and Alfie groaned.

“I don’t need this” he pointed between the two of you “I don’t need women ganging up on me. No”

“What’s the ‘Bucket’ bit?” you questioned.

“We used to put her in a-“Alfie motioned with his hands “Bucket. When she were a baby. Carry her about the place”

“For…any particular reason?” you squinted back at him.

“None in particular. Fun” he sniffed.

“Hang on, her name’s Kolski?” you questioned, pointing towards where Harriet was lifting herself up onto the banister slightly. She placed her chest against the wood, kicking up as if she was trying to swing herself over but not getting the right balance.

Alfie scowled and stepped to grab the back of her dress at the right moment, yanking her over in a slightly more controlled way than she was about to do, and helped wrangle her to the floor. She groaned, and groaned, and groaned, raising the tone as she continued to let him know she was not happy with his ruining her fun. He scuffed the bun that was already coming loose and turned her towards you, marching her off down the hallway. You followed after, still seeking an answer.

“It is indeed. Bane of my bloody-“

“Alfie!” you warned.

“Oh, bloody ain’t barely swea-“

“Toby/Aaron Kolski, Kolski?” you questioned, ignoring his argument. He was leading you into a little stairway, down into a warm kitchen. Once there, he let Harriet free and she tore off, grabbing a paper that was at the table and finding a seat.

“Yes indeed” he confirmed, and you stalled on the bottom step.

You thought for a minute, piecing connections in your head, before settling for an: “Oh”

“Yeah”

Harriet set about drawing while Alfie rooted round the kitchen, gathering supplies for tea, you realised. The kettle was beginning to bubble and it came to you that he’d disappeared before to set the water going. You realised why you knew the name, dropping yourself into a chair.

“Harry…Kolski”

“That’s me” Harriet replied, eyes focused on the tree she was drawing.

“I thought you were a grown-up man” you reached out to twirl a pencil on the table top.

“Nope” she popped the ‘p’ sound, swapping out her pencils.

“Only you’re on the registers at work. I've filled out your employee sheets” you pointed to her, tapping on the table as you looked up at Alfie.

“Yeah, that’s a bit of a joke between us all” he confirmed, placing the cups of steaming liquid down before he joined you at the table. He reached for a discarded pencil and added a bird to the sky on Harriet’s drawing. Only, because he was in the seat opposite her, it was upside down.

“That’s upside down” she noted.

“No, it ain’t. They’re just…doing turns, aren’t they? They’re showing off, is all” he defended, lifting his cup to blow over the surface. You smiled to yourself, tucking your head down to hide the sight a little.

“So, are you Aaron’s or Toby’s?” you asked.

“Aaron’s. I’ve got Uncle Toby and Uncle Alfie” she explained, searching for what you presumed was the red that was hidden behind a book. You reached and passed it to her and she thanked you, carrying on with her drawing.

“Well, that actually explains some things” you decided.

“It does?” She added, brow furrowing as she concentrated on a twirling line.

“Yeah. Your dad isn’t quite sure of me and now I realise he’s looking out for you”

“Yeah, he doesn’t like new people a lot” she agreed, eyes still to her work.

“No”

Alfie sat back in his chair, letting the two of you talk.

“He’s just being a good dad” you explained.

“It’s why my dad picked him” she explained and you squinted a little, her words confusing you. She looked up for a second when you didn’t reply “Dad always said if anything happened to him he still wanted me to have a dad, and he wanted it to be Aaron”

“Yeah, he used to work with us when we were first coming up, din’t he? He was a smart man, your dad was” Alfie sniffed, giving you a little wink.

“Oh” you added, realising what had happened “Well, if he picked Aaron to look after you, he was”

You licked at your lips, not quite sure what to say next. You reached out for a spare piece of paper and took one of the pencils, starting on your own drawing.

“He looked after me, your dad did. Aaron, I mean” you attempted, throwing it out tentatively like a line into water.

Her hand slowed a little, meeting your eyes, before she looked down to your paper.

“He did?”

“Yeah. It’s how I met Alfie” you tilted your head towards where he was sat, scribbling colour into the shape you’d just drawn “I was…lost. And not feeling well. And your dad made sure I was alright. He did a really good thing that night”

She hummed, focusing on her drawing. You looked up to Alfie, not sure if you’d done the right thing. He gave you a little nod and you went back to colouring. The wind was whipping up again outside and you listened to it howl. The house was lower at the back, or rather the garden was, and so while you were technically under the house, you could see out onto the lawns. There were trees and flowers, benches and boxes scattered about.

“Are those apple trees at the back there?” you questioned.

“Your nana Rosie makes nice pies, don’t she Bucket?”

“We put the raspberries in with them” she turned in her seat, using the pencil to point out a box near the window “see?”

“Oh yeah. You help grow them?”

She nodded, but didn’t turn back to either you or the drawing.

“Do you work at the bakery as well?” she questioned and you panicked. How much did she know? You imagined that to her, bakery meant bakery.

“Umm…” you turned to Alfie, searching. When he didn’t warn you off, you told the careful truth “No, I work at the club”

“I haven’t been there” she finished, tucking her knees back under her on the seat as she came back to drawing.

“No, I shouldn’t think you’ll be going anytime soon either”

She smiled, swapping out for a fresh piece of paper.

“Hey, Harry” you tapped her wrist, drawing her attention. When she was looking you held the paper up to her and she burst out laughing. Alfie leant forward, looking at the paper. He rolled his eyes and sat back in the chair, taking another swig of tea.

“Here we go, ganging up on me”

You turned it back to yourself, surveying your work.

“I don’t know! I think I got your hair just right, Alfie” you defended, shooting him a smirk. He shook his head at you and you winked.

-

“When did…” you trailed off later, when night had fell and Harriet had gone to bed. You weren’t quite sure how to finish the sentence. You were tucked up in a chair by Alfie’s desk, your damp hair trailed over the armrest closest to the fire as you watched him work. He looked different to how he did at the flat – probably just the sight of him working at a proper desk, but still at home. His sleeves rolled up to his elbows, at home.

“Just after she were born. Rosie already worked for me, that’s how her parents met” he ticked off something, the pencil scraping.

“Right old matchmaker, you are”

He sniffed and smiled.

“Anyway, he knew the job. He wanted his kid to have a dad. Aaron stepped up, I brought Rachel on, had ‘em move in. I’m not always here anyway. Seems stupid letting the place go to waste. Nice having some people around me who aren’t complete reprobates - considering my day job, yeah?”

“Did I fuck up…did I put my foot right in it?” you worried, turning a damp strand over in your hands.

“No, she’s fine about it. Well, she’s not but you know she can talk about it and that” he flexed his hand, looking across the desk “She don’t know much different. She’d have grown up with us all around anyway. Even if her dad hadn’t died, she’d still be family”

You watched him work for a while, fingers twirling. He added the paper to a pile, lifted from the chair, and came to sit on the floor before you with a tired groan.

“You want the chair?” you questioned, abandoning fidgeting with your hair in favour of smoothing out his over his scalp. There was a section at the back that seemed to not agree with the rest and needed tending every so often, lest it continue to rebel in the opposite direction. He lifted the glass he’d poured but never drank from off the table and settled a little further back, getting comfortable on the rug.

“No, you’re alright” he took a swig, resting his arm on his bent knee as he watched the flames in the fireplace. You chuckled to yourself and he bent his head back, looking up at you.

“What?”

“Us. The gangster and the girl out of time. Being domestic and chatting about the kids at night” you joked with a smile.

He chuckled, rolled his head back right way, and took another drink. He lifted the glass over his shoulder and you took it from him, swallowing a little of the burning liquid.

“Oh, God” he laughed as you handed it back “That’s worse than the shit at the flat”

“Uhh, this is the damn good stuff, actually, missus”

“Oh, sorry!” you teased, shifting up in the chair a little, before returning to tracing your hands through his hair “Lord of the fucking manor”

He laughed again, in the back of his throat as he swallowed the last of it. The glass clinked as he returned it to its place on the glass top.

“You understand why I didn’t tell you about her, don’t you?” he asked as he settled back, clasping a palm over his opposite wrist.

“I understand”

“You’re not…”

“You’re worried I’m pissed?”

“A little bit”

You smiled even though he couldn’t see it, letting it sit in the air. The thought of what you hadn’t told him came to mind.

“No, it wasn’t you holding back something I needed to know. You were protecting her. If it was something I needed to know, I might be. But I didn’t need to know so I didn’t”

“I was there when he went,” he looked off into the fire again “took too fucking long”

You hummed and dropped your hand to rest by the side of his throat, trailing the back of your fingers lightly over his pulse.

“I want to say something like ‘at least he died with friends’ or something but…I don’t really think it’d land, would it?”

“No, not really”

“Yeah” you rolled your head to look up at the ceiling, letting him have his thoughts.

“It was my fault, I think” his voice was smaller when he continued and your hand slowed. You searched for something to say. Anything to reply. “That one still sits with me”

“If he’s anything like his daughter, then he knew what he was about” you tried and he scoffed a laugh, dropping his head.

“He made it through a fucking war and I got him killed in a backstreet, how fucked is that?”

“Is that why she lives here?” you questioned.

“What, you think it’s about absolving my guilt?” he turned across his shoulder, not enough to look at you, but enough that he could probably see you out of his periphery. You turned and shuffled in the seat, bringing your arm up so you could lean against it.

“I don’t know. I’m still learning and working you out, Mr Solomons”

He hummed, staring off.

“It’s not about guilt. She’s family, that’s all”

“She’s family, then” you traced a finger around the shell of his ear.

“I could do it, so I did. That’s all” he defended.

“I think that’s what you’re about. Doing what you can do. Doesn’t matter about what you should or shouldn’t. It’s easier that way.

You don’t have to worry about hypotheticals and options and…you could make booze, so you did. You had money to help Esther, so you did.

And you did what you could do and you did what you could do until fifty decisions down the line you could give the boys a job, so you did. You could give her a home, so you did. You could help me, so you did”

“Yeah, my life’s simple” he snarked, not maliciously and you pinched at his ear. He whined and grabbed your hand, pulling it down to rest safely at the juncture of his shoulder and chest. You weaved your fingers into his, settling down into the chair.

“I’m trying to be all deep and emotional here. I’m trying to peer into your soul”

“Well, bugger off” he rested his head back against your knees and you hummed, squeezing his fingers.

“I’m sure you did what you could do and nothing less, Alfie. It’s not like you to do otherwise” you assured. He stared up at the ceiling, the only sign he’d heard you the fluttering blinks that followed. You joined him, thumb tracing over his chest, and let your eyelids flutter closed to the sound of the crackling fire.

 


	15. The 5th of Never

“Oh, dear Lord” you mumbled, shrinking back from the light that swept up at you. There was another screech and another assault of light.

“Right, up you get”

You squinted and looked towards the windows that were being flung wide open by an old woman in a flowery dress.

“Sorry…what…I-“ you words came out in a sleepy stutter.

She turned to you, crossed her arms, and stared you down.

“You’re not what I thought” she sounded almost proud in her tone and it only added to your confusion. You wiped your face down and pushed the pads of your fingers into your forehead.

“You’re-uh,” you bounced on your fingers for a moment as you tried to form coherent thoughts “Rosie?”

“That I am, dear. Now get that bum out of that bed before I fling you out with the sheets, there’s a good girl” you heard her retreating footsteps and took a deep breath, wiggling your jaw to wake yourself up a little. The floor was freezing as you managed to miss the edge of the rug and you ended up almost hopping from foot to foot on your way to the bathroom.

“You’re exactly what I thought!” you shouted after her and her laugh echoed back, a deep chuckle that couldn’t help but make you smile.

-

You’d found boots laid out for you when you’d returned, along with a freshly made bed, and a note that told you to dress warmly and simply. You weren’t sure whether that should have caused dread to seep into the pit of your stomach, but there it was.

The kitchen was where you’d left it yesterday, having only taken one wrong turn in your quest to retrace your steps, and thank goodness, there was food on the table.

“Bucket, don’t you dare!” a woman was scolding as she reached over the table and grabbed her wrist, ignoring the giggle “And you! Should know better!”

Alfie lifted his hands in surrender when she pointed, sitting back in his chair with a wink to the child.

“Can’t believe I have to parent the both of you” she flipped the page of the newspaper before her aggressively, eyes flicking to you as you entered.

“I was enjoying my break. Couldn’t you have kept him at the flat a little longer?” she asked and you laughed to yourself.

“No, a little group effort was needed, actually” you replied.

“Oi, I am still sat here” Alfie managed through a mouthful of toast, almost choking when Rosie came up behind him and gave a swift slap to the back on his head.

“Manners, I taught you them” the elder lady scolded.

You broke out laughing, remembering Esther having done much the same and wondering exactly how many women it took to keep him in line throughout the course of a day.

“You’re Rachel? Bucket’s...uhh-Harry’s mum?”

“You can call her it, its fine. Yeah. Hi” She gave a little wave with the free fingers that weren’t pinching the newspaper, looking up over your shoulder. Rosie placed a plate in front of you and you thanked her, setting into your meal.

“When you’re done with that, you’re needed outside” Alfie said, gesturing to your plate as he got up. You swallowed as quickly as possible and turned to him confused.

“Outside?”

“Yeah”

“Why?” you questioned and he took a last gulp of his tea before leaving the table.

“Found you a teacher” he called after him, leaving you scowling at an empty stairway.

-

Your boots hadn’t even touched the bottom step when you sighed for the first time.

“Fucks sake” he shook his head, pushing off where he’d been resting against the wall.

“Dad, swearing!” Bucket called and Aaron placed a hand to his chest, an apology. Rachel gave a pat to your back as she headed out, fixing her coat up around her throat.

“Be nice” you heard her whisper to Aaron as she pecked his cheek and set off with Bucket in tow.

“Take the car!” he shouted after them and she waved him off, swinging her arm around dramatically to point to the driver that was making their way up “yeah, alright” He muttered to himself, turning back to you.

“Morning” you attempted and he didn’t respond “I’m guessing neither of us were informed by your reaction”

“No, Alfie just said what he needed, not who he needed it for”

You crossed your arms over your chest. “Well, you’re one up on me because I was told absolutely zilch until 10 minutes ago”

“I wonder how that feels, being kept in the dark?” he snarked right back, walking around the building as you followed after him.

“If you’d like to have a conversation about-“

“I don’t. Not necessary. Let’s get our work done here today and then I can pick my child up from school and pretend like it’s a normal day”

“She’s a sweet kid” you remarked, still chasing after him in the gravel.

“She is. Try not to drag her into your mess, would you?”

You stalled and he noticed, pausing himself. He turned sluggishly, his face showing he realised he’d gone a little too far.

He steeled his jaw, looked away, and then back with a softer expression. “I apologise”

“It’s fine. You’re pissed. You have a right to be. Just try to remember exactly which one of us has really had their life turned upside down, yeah?”

He nodded and you took the few steps to catch up to him.

“You don’t have to be my best friend but I would like if we could be civil. I consider you all my family now. And I’m unutterably grateful for everything I’ve found here, so if you think I’m going to lose it because you got your feelings hurt not being daddy’s favourite anymore- why are you smiling like that?”

“Nothing” he shook his head, looking out over the lawn rather than at you.

“Aaron?”

He leant his shoulder up against the wall, hands in his pockets.

“You’re gonna fit right in, with an attitude like that”

You gave him a small smile, shuffling in the gravel.

“I reserve the right to not fully trust you until proven otherwise” he said, staring right at you, serious again.

“Permission granted” you gave him a little mock salute but he wasn’t amused so you just shuffled awkwardly.

“I’m fucking with you. That was cute. Bucket’s gonna love you” he turned around and made off again and you followed after.

“I’m not done. Just saying. Still pissed. Gonna be cranky for a bit longer” he threw over his shoulder and you sighed once again.

-

“Oh, Lord A-frickin-live” you handed the gun back quickly and did a little pace before making your way back.

“That was good! You’re getting better” he reassured and you moved from one foot to the other, staring across the lawn at the shards that lay there.

“I don’t think I like this. Don’t laugh! I don’t! Oh God, what if I have to shoot someone? What if I had to…I’ve done it in games before! It’s fine through a screen! It’s not even ‘controller to real thing’ shock like that zombie game had a proper-” you motioned a shotgun with your hands before bringing them to your hips and shuffling.

Aaron lifted his head from where he was doing something you didn’t understand with the gun and you both looked as confused as one another.

“That a future thing?”

“It’s a…future thing”

He mouthed an ‘ok’ to himself as he clicked something on the fun again and you realised he’d reloaded as he handed it back out to you. It sat there, between you both, as Aaron tried to awkwardly keep it held out to you and at the floor.

“Take the gun” he commanded.

“No”

“Lady, take the gun”

You whined through your teeth and he rolled his eyes.

“Don’t!” you warned, taking a trial step, then back, then deciding to go straight for it “Fine, fine, fine, fucking…fine!”

You lifted, aimed, and shot as quickly as you could before the adrenaline wore off and made it through the last target in the row.

“See? You’re a natural” Aaron remarked, smirking as you handed the gun back like it was about to explode on you.

“I don’t want to be a natural. I’ve actually changed my mind, alright, I think I’ll just take up Alfie’s offer of hiding in a cupboard somewhere until everyone stops hating us. Alright, thanks!” you slapped a hand to his shoulder, taking a deep, calming breath as you made your way over to the backdoor.

“You do know that’ll be sometime around the 5th of Never?” he shouted after you, right before you heard another series of shots and slammed the door behind you.

-

“What you reading?” Alfie’s voice made you jump as he entered the study and you settled back into the chair.

You flicked the cover over in your hand, eyeing it. “I’m going to be honest, I haven’t actually been paying attention”

He chuckled to himself, emptying his pockets onto the desk before draping his coat over the back of the chair.

“How’s work?” you dropped the book to the floor carefully and looked back up to him.

He grumbled in response and you smiled to yourself, swinging your legs a little where they rested over the arm of the chair.

“I spoke to your teacher about your lessons” you rolled your eyes at his tone.

“Oh, yeah?”

“Yes, he said you did very well. Me and Pickles are very proud. Pickles, tell your mother you’re proud”

“He’s outside” you noted and he looked up to you, furrowed his brow, and ducked his head under the table. You broke out laughing at the sight and he re-emerged.

“I swear he was right behind me before” his eyes trailed over to the door, and then behind him for a moment.

“Nope” you popped the p, swinging your legs a little more before getting bored and swinging out of the chair, “We had a chat about our situation. Firing weapons in close vicinity to each other seemed to help clear some things up”

You poured him a drink and walked over to the desk, shuffling a paper out of the way to put it down.

“I hope you _weren’t_ letting the dog have a go, love” he mumbled, glasses already perched as he got into the documents on his desk. You dropped yourself into a chair opposite and tapped a pattern on each arm rest.

“Me and Aaron” you clarified and he hummed in response “you spend all day at the office and then you come home and spend all night in your office”

“What, you my wife now?” he joked, dropping his smile a little when he looked up to you. He dropped his glasses and settled back in the chair, flicking the documents away from him.

He cleared his throat and scratched his beard.

“Just, some contracts that needed a once over” he gestured to them and you smiled at his conciliatory voice.

“I know. I’m just saying”

“I’m a busy man, love” he noted and you nodded along.

“Very busy. As is the problem”

Pickles nudged the door open and scampered in, making his way straight for Alfie’s lap.

“See, he misses you” you whined louder than the dog as Alfie began to scratch at his ears.

You smiled, watching them greet each other as you got comfy. It faded as the reminder you’d set for yourself emerged in your brain.

“Alfie?”

He hummed a response, still playing with the dog.

“What’s happening with our dear Inspector Kaye?” you questioned, making Alfie look over.

“It’s alright, love, don’t you worry”

“I’d like to know, it’d make me feel better. When I don’t know anything, my brain starts filling in the gaps and I have a very active imagination”

He looked over at you, hands slowing as they scratched Pickles’ back. He gave him a last peck to his nose before letting him drop down and turned properly to you, leaning his elbows on the desk.

“We’re keeping an eye on him. We’ve got someone at the station so we’re not completely in the dark but I’m working on getting someone into the office so we can get copies and notice and…” he motioned his hand to show an ‘etc.’ and you bit your lip.

“He’s been going after me for a while love, never made anything stick. He just saw a new opportunity in you but we’re gonna shut it right down, alright?” he reassured and then repeated when you didn’t answer.

“Yeah, alright. Alright” you agreed, not completely convinced.

“He’s just…” he sat back, moved the papers back into a pile and set them on the edge of the desk as he stalled for thought “trying to make a name, you know? He’s made it his mission to ‘collapse the empires’ and ‘weed out the bosses’ or whatever his stupid speech is. I don’t know. He’s an idiot”

“Don’t underestimate him” you pleaded.

“Oh, no. I don’t. I know he’s very dangerous. Very dangerous indeed. An idiot yeah, but one with resources, right? But I’m putting all my resources and a very significant effort into pulling the rug out from under him”

“Have you talked to the others? Can you do that?” you sat forward in the chair, resting an elbow on your knee and scratching Pickles’ ears from where he sat at your ankles.

“The others who?”

“Others bosses. You said he’d made it his mission to take you all down, makes sense if you all have a vested interest to work together, doesn’t it?

I know you’re probably not all the best of friends or anything but when your life and livelihood comes on the line, I’d think they’d be no better reason. They won’t expect that. You working together. It’ll throw them off.

They’ll probably try to turn you against each other, divide and conquer. Tell one boss they’ll be protected and reap the rewards of helping take the rest down. Why are you smiling like that?”

“You’ve been doing your homework” he joked, resting his temple against his fist as he sat back in the chair.

“Shut up!” you laughed “I’m serious though, is it a viable plan?”

“Course it is. Which is why I thought of it” he shrugged.

“And?”

“And” he brought his lips together, looked away, and then back “won’t fucking work”

You sighed.

“Why not?”

“Because I know these men and I’ve tried this sort of thing before – never works. Always ends up falling through and causing more problems”

“Yeah, but there’s something different this time” you pointed out as he took another drink.

“Hmm” he swallowed, getting out of the chair to pour another glass “And what’s that?”

“Me”

He paused, turning back to look at you. You nodded to him.

“I told you. I’m family now. And this is a family business”

 

 

 


End file.
